


Memento mori

by OMG_Mangos



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Burnout - Freeform, Denial, Exhaustion, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Recovery, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMG_Mangos/pseuds/OMG_Mangos
Summary: “I think I have not made myself clear.” Her voice was cold and calculating. “You send me away, and you will have half a year to live, if you are lucky, and you do not strike me as the lucky sort of person. I find four months a lot more likely, maybe less.”*****************************Sometimes, you need someone to stop you. Especially when you are one of the smartest people alive, chasing tirelessly after one of the most dangerous killers in history.Sometimes, you need someone to remind you that you are only human. Especially when you would like to forget that.Sometimes, you need someone to remind you that you are not invincible. That you are mortal.Memento mori.OR:every detective needs his doctor
Relationships: L (Death Note)/Original Character(s), L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 64





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> Thanks for reading.  
> The story begins with episode 15 of the anime and is in the beginning pretty close to its actual plot, but not for very long. 
> 
> Obviously, I do not own Death Note or any of the characters (if I did, a certain someone wouldn’t be dead). 
> 
> And now please enjoy.

"Hair...snack crumbs...hair…"  
The world's greatest detective stared intensely onto the presenting evidence. Not one member of his task force could make out if he was delighted or disappointed about these findings. 

"Mr. Yagami, if I die within the next few days, your son is Kira. Hm, another hair…" 

Aizawa made a noise of surprise, and Chief Yagami asked him to repeat himself.

L suppressed a sigh. Wasn't it obvious? Why couldn't they just understand? It was not like talking about his imminent doom was something he greatly enjoyed. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand, better not dwell on this. 

"What are you talking about anyway?" Matsuda asked in his usual quick-witted way. 

"If anything happens to me, I’ve asked Watari to make himself available to you, so I’m counting on the team," L said patiently, and a little slowlier, so that they hopefully might catch on. Yagami senior did not make it that easy for him.

"Ryuzaki, you said he was almost cleared and now this? Honestly, how much do you suspect my son?"

"Hm." L couldn't help it anymore; he sighed deeply and at the same time decided to be as truthful with them as he could. 

"The truth is, I don’t even know what to think anymore. I’ve never been in a situation like this. If Kira and the second Kira are working together right now, things are not working good for me."

At this point, he noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. Caffeine, most likely, and all the sugar. Maybe he should drink some water? He made a fist with one hand and put the other behind his back and hoped no-one else had noticed. 

"Given that, I may not be thinking as clearly as I normally do," he went on, "So I could be wrong. Maybe I still consider him a suspect only because we don’t have anyone else. But still…if I do happen to be killed soon, please assume that your son is Kira."

Suddenly, it was hard to concentrate his eyes on the faces staring at him, so he let his gaze run into distance. The opposite wall was so white that it was giving him a headache. Had it always been this impossibly white? The desire to close his eyes came sudden and forcefully and he almost gave into it. No. _No._ There were things he needed to do now. 

*********************************************

L was sitting on a bench on the university campus, blinking against the sunlight. It sure had been a while since he had last felt the sun on his bare skin. It was not as pleasant as he remembered. Actually, it made his headache worse. In one moment he was way too hot, and in the next he was freezing.

Disdainfully, he glanced at the sun. _How rude._

Everything was too bright and hurting his eyes, and his insides felt funny. He was expecting a heart attack pretty much any moment now. Had Kira's other victims also felt like this? He tugged at his collar and spotted Light Yagami walking towards him out of the corner of his eyes. He felt relief wash over him; finally the waiting was over. 

Light was talking to a black-haired, pretty girl. When he noticed the detective, he paused. L directed his unblinking gaze at him. 

"Hey, what’s wrong?" the girl asked. 

L didn't give Light a chance to respond. "Hey, Light. How’s it going?"

Light stared at him as if he was an apparition. "Kiyomi, could we continue this later? I need a moment alone with him." 

The girl – Kiyomi, apparently – ran along without complaint. 

"I hope she’s not upset," the detective said to fill the silence, because he had forgotten his next line. That had never happened before; this was a planned operation. Everything was calculated to reach his goal. What should he say now? His brain felt too big for his skull, but at the same time it was oh so empty. 

Light sat down next to him on the bench and examined him from the side. "No, she isn't. Are you?"

L blinked. This was not a response he had expected.  
"No, why would I be?" 

"You look… weird. Weirder than usual. Sick. Are you feeling okay?" 

The black-haired man dismissed the question with an impatient movement of his hand and hoped that the other one would not notice that it was, once again, shaking. "Yes, yes. Fine. Great. Never better. _Peachy_." 

"If you say so." His prime suspect eyed him suspiciously. "Is it okay to be here? Didn’t you say you were afraid to appear in public?" 

L would have almost, _almost_ laughed hysterically at that. Was he afraid? Had he ever been afraid? Had he ever _not_ been afraid? Right now, he did not remember, because his insides felt like they were crawling with vermin, his heart was fluttering in his chest like a caged bird and every cell in his body seemed to be on edge. Was this fear? Or something else? 

He mobilised every energy reserves that he had left and concentrated on not letting any of this reach the surface. Because he had just remembered what he needed to say, and he needed to _focus._

"Yeah, I did," he said and was almost a little surprised at how strong his voice sounded, "but then I realized that as long as you are not Kira, I should be safe. The fact is, you are the only one on the outside who knows me as L. In the unlikely event that I die in the next few days, I’ve instructed your father and everyone in the headquarters to assume that you are Kira."

Light showed no sign of emotion whatsoever, but L had not really expected him to. He was too good for that, too much like himself. Anything else would have been disappointing. So the detective just continued: 

"Besides, you told me yourself that you missed having me around at school, so I figured why not come back for a little change of pace. As long as it doesn’t kill me, college is a lot of fun." 

That was a blatant lie. He did not want to be here right now. The noise, the colour, the… _people._ Everything was buzzing around him, and his head was buzzing, and somehow there was an annoying high-pitched sound over everything else. L wished he could just go into a dark room somewhere, without anyone else, with no noise whatsoever, and just stay there until –

"I have to admit, without you around, intelligent conversation is hard to come by," Light interrupted his daydreaming. 

"Hm, I see," the other man answered lamely. What was _wrong_ with him today? His brain did not seem to function as it normally would, which made him feel naked and exposed. Maybe he just needed some sugar to get his grey cells working again? Yes, that would be it. 

"Hey, ain’t you wanna have some cake with me in the cafeteria?" 

Thankfully, Light agreed. "Sure. I have a break now, anyway." 

"Hm, that’s perfect. I’m kind of craving shortcake right now."  
That was another lie. In truth, he felt every cell in his body protesting against the prospect of food, and almost threw up in his mouth a little. But he needed to be able to think again, whatever it took. 

"Well, let’s hope they have it," Light answered, and it sounded as if he was talking through a thick wall of cotton. L got up from the bench and immediately felt all the blood rush out of his head. The world started spinning violently around him. 

_Curious_ , he thought as he suddenly saw the ground rapidly approaching him. He had already lost his consciousness before the actual impact. 

What followed felt like he was floating on a river of darkness. It wasn't unpleasant, really. His head was filled with cotton, and sometimes he would sink under the surface of the river and cease thinking all together. 

He wondered if he was dead, but he came to the conclusion that if he was, he would not be thinking about such a question. 

Once or twice he heard voices tugging at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't place them.

"...okay? ...no, not the hospital… too dangerous… headquarters… overworked himself… call…" 

Then, there was a sharp pain in the crook of his arm, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and he sank deep, deep into the darkness. 

*********************************************

An hour later and about five thousand miles away, a phone rang. The sound of _The Little Mermaid's Poor Unfortunate Souls_ echoed through the laboratory, with no-one there to hear but her. 

Absentmindedly, she pulled the phone out of the pocket of her coat and answered it:

"Hallo, Sie erreichten die Zentrale des unangefochtenen Geistesreichtums. Es wird an diesem schönen Tag Medizingeschichte geschrieben; am Apparat das Genie höchstselbst, wie darf ich Ihnen behilflich sein?" _(Transl. "Hello, you have reached the headquarters of unchallenged greatness of mind. On this fine day, the history of medicine is being rewritten; you are speaking to the genius herself. How may I assist you?")_

When she recognised the voice at the other end of the line, she straightened up a bit and switched to English:

"Oh, hi, Wammy. It's been a while. What's up?" 

Her eyes drifted over the arrays of petri dishes in front of her, straight in line like pearls on a string, as she listened to the reply. One of her eyebrows arched. 

"Really? Him? Well, I guess we shouldn't be surprised...sure, send it to me, I'll see what I can find. ...what, Japan? Hm, alright, I suppose, but I'll do the lab work first to see if I am really needed…. Oh, please, ' _dangerous_ '. I've seen microorganisms more deadly than Kira. Besides, I doubt that I'm an attractive target to him… yes, yes I'm sure. Alright, I'll be in contact. Bye, Wammy. Bye." 

She put her phone away and turned around. On the silent TV behind her, they were reporting on Kira's newest killings. 

_Into the lion's den._ She grinned.


	2. Chapter 1: Arrival

When L had collapsed, Light had felt a twinge of panic rushing through him. _I told Rem to wait until I give the okay. Now they will all know I am Kira, thanks to Ryuzaki's precautions. Shit._

But the detective was not dead. He was breathing, even if fast and shallowly, Light soon realised as he knelt down beside him. He was unsure of what to do now. Was this a trick? 

Quickly, a small knot of people had formed around them, craning their heads to see what had happened. 

"Is he okay?" someone asked. 

"Yes, he's fine, this happens sometimes. I'm his friend," he replied calmly. Whatever he decided to do next, first he needed to get rid of this audience. 

Someone knelt down next to him. Watari. Light's eyes widened for a second and then he scolded himself for his surprise. Wherever Ryuzaki went, Watari would not be far, he should have learned that by now. He elderly man picked up the still unconscious one with no visible effort and carried him off. Light followed him, registering that the other students stared after them for a moment, but then went on their way again. Most of them would likely not even remember this incident. Those were the humans; uncaring, ignorant, forgetful. _But not in my new world._

"What happened?" Watari asked when they were far enough from anyone else.

"I don't know," Light answered truthfully. He noticed how small and fragile Ryuzaki looked as he was carried like this, and he would have liked to laugh out loud. _How could I ever see him as a threat?_ But he kept a worried look on his face instead. 

One by one, the other members of the task force joined up with them on their way.

"Ryuzaki! Is he…?" Matsuda's eyes were big and round as wagon wheels. 

"No." 

"He looks terrible! What happened? Are we going to take him to the hospital?"

Watari shook his head. "No, not the hospital. It would be too dangerous. We need to take care of this ourselves." 

It really was an effort for Light to keep the smile out of his face. Would it really be this simple? Could this be the end of the great detective L? Sure, he would have liked to kill him himself, but this had almost comical value. 

_The great L, slain by a simple sickness. Proving that in the end, he is just a simple human. Nothing like me. I am a God._

"Poor guy must have overworked himself," Matsuda remarked sadly. 

"He barely ever sleeps, and even less those past few days," Light's father agreed, "Perhaps we should have seen this coming." 

They reached a black van parked in a small side street, and Watari placed Ryuzaki carefully on the back bench. 

"I will take him back to the headquarters. Please follow us in your own cars after some time, I need to make a call. Don't come all at the same time, it would be suspicious." 

With that, he was off. Light followed the car with his eyes. _Tough luck, Ryuzaki._

*********************************************  
Three and a half hours later, the task force sat collectively together in the main room, save for Light, who had stayed at the university for his classes. 

They had decided to take Misa Amane into custody, even without Ryuzaki. The body of evidence was clear, and now she was kept in this very building. Watari had advised them to take every measure of precaution that they could think of, as long as they did not know how Kira #2 killed her victims. The outcome was extreme, and everybody was in a state of unease. 

So they sat in silence, until the door opened and Ryuzaki marched into the room, not sparing them as much as a glance. He looked mostly back to normal and sat down casually in his chair in front of the computer, as if nothing at all had happened since he had last gotten up from it. 

They should have asked him then how he was feeling, or what had happened to him, but no-one dared. 

"I apologise," the detective finally said stiffly with his back turned to them, and it sounded like it took quite some effort from him, "I realise that I put our whole operation in danger. This should not have happened, and I assure you it never will again. I am pleased that Miss Amane is in our custody nonetheless, and I would appreciate if we could move on with this case without letting this incident, or any mention of it, come in the way of our work." 

Nobody knew how to reply to that. Ryuzaki switched on the screen in front of him, and a picture of Misa Amane in her cell appeared; constrained, gagged and blindfolded. The police officers lowered their eyes, but Ryuzaki did not even flinch at this gruesome image. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand, still not looking at any of them.

"I will watch her for tonight, go home. The real work begins tomorrow."

The 'real work' apparently meant that they would all sit around a screen, watching Ryuzaki try to coax a confession out of Misa Amane over a microphone, the officers realised the next day. 

But no matter the question put to her, she would either not answer at all or decidedly deny the possibility of her being Kira #2. 

After a few hours of this, Ryuzaki stopped his interrogation and just watched her through the screen in silence. Matsuda suppressed a yawn. This was not really what he had wanted to sign up for. 

"How did you get in here?" Ryuzaki asked suddenly without turning his head from the screen. Everyone wheeled around to find a young woman standing in the middle of the room as if she had sprouted from the ground. She had curly auburn hair of chin length and eyes of a piercing Azure blue. She couldn't be taller than 5’3" and she wore simple clothing over her slender figure; a black hoodie over tight, worn-out blue jeans and a pair of overused black sneakers. Matsuda guessed her age to be no more than 18, Chief Yagami figured her to be 22, which was closer to the truth. Her hands and forearms were covered in Henna tattoos.

Regardless of her by no means intimidating appearance, the way that she raised her chin and the sparkle in her eyes had something that made you want to respectfully lower your head to acknowledge your own obligatory inferiority. She seemed to be the embodiment of confidence and was in no means taken aback by all the attention that was suddenly focused on her, or the harsh tone of voice in which Ryuzaki had addressed her. 

"I was invited," she said condescendingly, as if talking to someone who was missing the absolute obvious. That got Ryuzaki's attention. None of the present people had ever spoken to the detective in such a way; Matsuda doubted that he had ever heard a condescending word addressed at him in his life. He was without a doubt the smartest person in this room, most likely in all of the world, and yet she looked down on him as if he was a toddler. This girl was either completely insane, or she didn't know whom she was talking to. 

Ryuzaki turned around and fixed her in his neutral, unblinking stare. "No," he said simply as if that settled the matter. She did not seem impressed in the least. 

"Watari would beg to differ," she shrugged. For the fraction of a second, a hint of surprise flashed over Ryuzaki's face before he was able to regain his unmoving mask of indifference. She grinned and he clenched his teeth. 

"Watari," the detective barked into a microphone on his desk, "did you invite a woman that is not part of our investigation into our headquarters without discussing it with me first?" 

"Yes," came the answer after a few seconds. This time, Ryuzaki made sure no stirring of emotion was visible on his face. "Come up here, I need to talk to you," he told Watari and turned back to the woman, who was grinning victoriously. It made him furious, but he simply asked: "Who are you?" 

"Does it make a difference? You're just going to choose another alias for me, so do go ahead and pick a name you like and spare us that little spiel of yours." 

"Fine," Ryuzaki grunted, got up from his chair and circled her once in his bare feet. She followed him with her eyes. "You'll be A." 

"A for amazing?" she smirked, "You really are a good detective, I had my doubts."

"A for annoying." 

She laughed at that, and it was a good laugh, he had to admit; one that you would want to join into. "A it is, then," she declared, not being offended in the least, which somehow annoyed him even more. Thankfully, he was spared a response by Watari walking in in this particular moment. 

Ryuzaki immediately marched over to him, grabbed him by the arm and led him from the room, hoping it did not look too much like he was running from her. 

A few rooms away, he closed the door behind them and stared at the older man.  
"Who is she? Why is she here?" he demanded unceremoniously. 

Watari held his gaze and replied without hesitation: "She is to be your private physician." 

The detective had made about 264 theories in his head about the circumstances of this strange woman's sudden appearance, ranging from distant genealogical relationships to new Kira-information. This answer had not been one of them. He stared. 

"No." 

"L, listen to me. You know what happened. It cannot happen again, especially not during such a risky investigation. Your body needs medical attention, whether you like it or not. And she is the best of the best." 

This last sentence grabbed L's interest. Watari had said it with such confidence that it could only mean…

"She is one of yours," he assessed. A nod. 

"But she did not grow up with us. Where did you keep her?" 

A sigh and silence.

Then finally: "At first, she stayed in one of the other orphanages. But as she grew older, we soon realised that she was different, special, like you – in a way. However, we also realised that she was not very… _compatible._ When she was three, she tried to cut open another child to see how she 'worked inside'. She didn't mean any harm, she did not understand that it would be horrible for the other person… She would constantly get beaten up, because she knew exactly which buttons to press on the other kids for them to become completely enraged. I explained it to her, but she only smiled and said 'but I like it how their punches travel from my skin to where I notice them'. When she was four, one of the other children died unexpectedly. She opened up his corpse to look inside in the middle of the night, before he could be picked up by the undertaker. She had taken out his liver, cut out the tumor that had led to his death, and placed it back inside. She told me he could come back now, and she cried for the first and only time when I told her that would not be possible. I kept her alone after that incident, and I gave her an education. She finished the official study programme of medicine by the time she was eight." 

Another sigh. 

"She certainly is not the most easy person to deal with, but she is not the first difficult genius that I've met." A meaningful glance. "Nobody knows the human body as she does. Just give her a chance, and most likely she will be gone in a couple of days. I'm sorry I did not ask you, but I knew you would have said no." 

"I can still say no," L declared, wheeled around and left the room without another word. Watari said something else, in a pleading sort of voice, but he couldn't make out the words anymore. 

When Ryuzaki walked back into the main room, she - A, as her new name was - was sitting in _his_ chair (the wrong way around, with the backrest in front of her), talking agitatedly to Matsuda, who seemed to be enjoying his time. The other police officers stood a small distance away, watching her wearily. 

"Out," he snarled at her. 

She raised her eyebrows. "Pardon?" 

"Out. Leave. You're neither wanted nor needed here. This is _my_ operation, this is _my building_. I am to decide who is welcomed and who is not, and you would just be in the way."

_And this is my body, I can decide what happens to it,_ he added silently for himself. He had not yelled; quite to the opposite, his voice was dangerously quiet. It had no effect whatsoever. She smiled lazily and rose painfully slowly from the chair. 

"Of course you can do that," she purred. "It would prove to me that you really are an idiot." 

Everyone collectively held their breath. Nobody had ever called him an idiot, nobody would _dare_. He was the most successful detective in the world; some said the smartest man alive. 

"What do you mean?" Matsuda asked, thunderstruck. Ryuzaki was not a violent person, but right now he would have liked to punch him in the face. 

"Well," she elaborated, enjoying every second of it, and looked directly at Ryuzaki, "remember when you had your little, hmm, moment of weakness a couple of hours ago?" 

Of course he remembered. He did not need to be reminded and he did not _want_ to be reminded. And so he did not grace this stupid question with an answer; instead, he did what he did best; he stared. 

She paid no mind to it and just continued: "They sent me a sample of your blood to analyse while you were out. What can I say? I did, and I found a lot of problems. I assume it comes at no surprise that your glucose level has been way too high for way too long. Your cortisol levels are through the roof, and you have one of the most impressive leukocytoses I have ever seen. Also -" 

"That's enough," he interrupted her calmly, "leave. Now. I can take care of myself." 

At that, A dropped her smile, and with it, her whole act. She stared back at him in the same expressionless manner, and her eyes suddenly seemed a shade darker. 

"I think I have not made myself clear." Her voice was cold and calculating.  
"You send me home, and you will have half a year to live, if you are lucky, and you do not strike me as the lucky sort of person. I find four months a lot more likely, maybe less. During this time, the glucose in your blood will spontaneously react to dangerous radicals and eventually clog your veins. You are likely to lose limbs and your eyesight. A blood-glucose clot might travel straight to your heart. You will have a heart attack, and your body is in no condition to survive a heart attack. You will die, and no-one will ever know if it was because of a Kira attack or because of your own _stupid_ self. You are also likely to develop one or another autoimmune disease, and type two diabetes. If you should miraculously survive all of the above and your organs don't spontaneously decide to shut down, you will be but a shadow of yourself. Due to constant overwork in combination with only three hours of sleep a day, your brain mass and the ramifications of your brain will be reduced. A stroke is pretty much inevitable, and even if you should somehow also avoid that… there will be trouble concentrating, trouble remembering, trouble making logical connections, eventually trouble reading. After a while, you would be left as perhaps the tenth best detective in the world; then the hundredth best, the ten thousandth… until finally, you could be no detective at all anymore. And then tell me, L, would you still be anyone at all?" 

She finished her monologue, and L swallowed, hard. He knew he had lost the first time there had been an audible gasp from one of the police officers. It had happened three more times during her little speech. Now, everyone was staring at him with a mixture of worry and shock. If there had ever been a good moment for Kira to kill him, this would have been it. But of course, nothing happened. 

"Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" he asked coldly and hoped it sounded as emotionless as he intended. 

"You are not my patient yet." 

"Ryuzaki, we had no idea…" Matsuda said in a truly sorrowful voice. 

"It's nothing," the man in question answered without breaking his staring contest with A, "it's fine. I am likely to die during the course of the investigation anyway." 

"No," chief Yagami stepped in. _No, not you too_. "This is an absolutely useless risk. We have taken every possible precaution to make sure that Kira can't get to you. Because you're the only shot at bringing Kira behind bars that we have got. I am not going to lose that to an avoidable health risk." 

"I will not be part of a suicide operation!" proclaimed Mogi with force. "If you don't let her help you, I will quit!" 

"Please, Ryuzaki," came it quietly from Matsuda's corner, "she said you would die in the next six months. I don't want to be here to see that. I will quit, too. Let her stay." 

L felt cornered, blindsided and deceived. In theory, he knew that they only meant well, that they only wanted to help. But he didn't _want_ help, he wanted things to go on as they had before, and if he died, he died. That was the way it had always been. 

Moreover, her words had slightly unnerved him. Death was one thing, but loss of sight another, and loss of his brain function an entirely different matter. _If I can't be a detective anymore, would I still be anyone at all?_

For a tiny, ridiculous second he considered just throwing them out, all of them, with their stupid worries and predictions. Perhaps he would even scream at them. 

But thankfully, the second passed and he got himself under control again. What was he, a toddler? He only needed to go along with it for a couple of days, two weeks perhaps, then he could throw her out and go back to being himself. God knew he had dealt with worse things. Perhaps she would even prove useful (although he strongly doubted it). 

For a few moments longer, he held her gaze, then he finally lowered his eyes, admitting defeat.  
"Alright," he said carelessly and shrugged, as if the whole matter did not concern him at all. 

"Good." A smirked. "We're going to have so much fun together." 

She marched back over to the table and, with a single flowing motion, swept all the candy, desserts and even his cold coffee (including the mug that contained it) into the bin that stood next to it. 

"Well," she added, "I will." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to clarify: i’m not a doctor (yet), and i admittedly bend the possibilities of reality on occasion to make a read more enjoyable. But i do try to stay as close to the facts as i can.  
> I hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 2: Power Play

“I was still drinking that,” L growled. 

“Oh, I don’t think so. From this point forward, there will be no more of this purified diabetes,” A replied cheerfully, “and don’t think for a minute that I won’t notice if you indulge yourself behind my back. I _will_ know.” 

This day just kept getting worse and worse. L knew that his task force would take her side, so he tried a different approach.

“I need it to think,” he reasoned. She looked at him as if he was not even capable of such an action.

“You know yourself that that’s bullshit. Don’t worry, I will make sure that your brain doesn’t lack glucose. But this amount is just ridiculous.”

How could anyone possibly be this stubborn? What did she gain from making his life a miserable hell? Was he not trying to rid the human race of what was likely to be the most dangerous killer in history? Did he deserve to be treated like this?

No, he concluded decidedly for himself, he did not. 

_Just for a few days._

L huffed and decided the best way to deal with A was the one where he did not deal with her at all. Without sparing her another glance, he marched over to his chair, sat down and demanded: “We have work to do now. You will stay out of our way and not say another word. Obviously, not a word of this investigation is to leave this room, especially not from you. Moreover, you will call me Ryuzaki. Mister Yagami, Matsuda, I would like you to—”

“But I don’t have a chair, where am I gonna sit?” A interrupted him unhappily. L would have almost slammed his head into the table. Never before had a human being managed to annoy him to the brink of madness within twenty minutes. 

“If you have half the intellect you pretend to have,” he pressed through clenched teeth, still refusing to turn around to her, “I am sure that you can figure this problem out yourself. Team, we will continue our observation. Perhaps she will talk now; I do not think that she is the type of person that responds well to isolation.”

“No-one responds well to isolation,” his own personal curse spoke up unaskedly, “some people just take a longer time to show the effects, L.” 

“Ryuzaki,” he corrected and skillfully ignored the rest. The members of his task force took their seats next to him. He heard soft steps shuffle over to the sofa, then he felt a burning stare in his back. Did she have nothing better to do? 

He turned on the screens. The image of Misa Amane in her pitiful state stared back at him. He heard a sharp intake of breath from the sofa. He rolled his eyes. 

“Miss Amane, can you hear me?” he asked into the microphone. No response. He let out his breath a little more forcefully than was necessary. Today’s incidents had done nothing to improve his frustration tolerance. 

“Can you tell us anything about Kira?”

This time, she answered. “No! I don’t know anything about Kira.” Her voice sounded teary. 

“We have physical evidence that proves that you are, in fact, Kira number two, so please don’t waste my time,” the detective said impatiently. Once again, he received only silence in return. L decided to drop his ace.

“Miss Amane, can you tell me anything about Light Yagami?”

He thought he saw the tiniest shiver run through her, but she only shook her head. 

“I have never heard of him! Please, let me go, I can’t tell you anything. Someone set me up,” she cried. 

L could feel the unease of the police detectives next to him. He knew that none of them were really comfortable with the way that they kept this young woman, and in a way, he could understand it. But the chances of her being Kira #2 were up to 98% by now, and he could not just ignore that. Also, she might be the only chance to get to Kira that they had. 

“Ryuzaki,” Matsuda said silently and hesitantly, “is all of this really necessary?”

He needed to get her to talk, and quickly. And he desperately needed something with a lot of sugar. 

“Would you like to try? Perhaps she will respond to soft skills and romance. Maybe you should pick some daffodils in the park for her,” he snapped. The other man’s head recoiled a bit at the sharp tone of voice, but then he replied determinedly: “Yes, actually, I would like to try.” 

And so he did, and after him the rest of the task force also got a chance to talk to their suspect to coax a confession out of her, as if this was kindergarten and Misa Amane was the new toy everyone wanted to try. 

L crouched on his chair, watched the other men try to do what he had failed at, tugged at his lower lip and was very, _very_ dissatisfied with the general state of affairs. 

A voice that he had almost blissfully forgotten about suddenly declared what he already knew: “You are never going to get her to talk like that.”

The other men turned around to A, but L did not pay her the compliment of his attention. 

“And how would you know that?” Mogi, whose turn it had been to penetrate the microphone, asked angrily. 

“No offense, but someone like you should not get involved in things like this,” chief Yagami said in an attempt to be peaceable. 

“Someone like me?” L could practically hear the raise of eyebrows in her voice.  
“What, because I’m a girl? Or because I’m not a god-sent detective like you guys?”

Nobody replied to that, and after a moment she added confidently: “I could get her to talk.”

"You could?" Matsuda sounded truly surprised. That was enough. 

"No, she _obviously_ could not. Gentlemen, if we could please continue our investigation without losing any more time to this _contretemps_?" 

With the latter, he was referring to A, which she acknowledged with a snort and a chuckle that drove him absolutely up the wall. Was she too ignorant to realise that she was being insulted, that she was unwelcome here?! 

Luckily, his task force went back to work without another word (it seemed that he had at least still some authority here) and A just continued staring holes into his back from across the room. 

To round up this day as perfect, Misa Amane did not say another word, no matter the question put to her. Light did not show up for the investigations today, either, because – according to his father – he had school work to do, so L could not investigate how he would react to the imprisonment of Misa Amane. 

After a few more hours of this, the detective begrudgingly had to realise that they had wasted their time so far, and sent his task force home. 

To his surprise (and immeasurable relief), A left the room when the other detectives did. _Peace and quiet._ He breathed in deeply. 

However, this fortune did not smile upon him for long. As he was just contemplating fishing one or two snacks out of the bin, the girl marched back in, a black case in her hand. 

"Oh, did you think you'd get rid of me this easily?" she grinned as she saw the look with which he considered her. He did not answer. 

"Well, that was stupid of you," A said cheerily as she crossed the room, put her case onto the sofa and took out a stethoscope. _Yes, apparently so,_ L thought bitterly. 

"I would like to take your medical history and a few body parameters before we can call it a day," she explained sedulously, "so if you'd please take a seat?" 

A gestured to the sofa. 

"No."

The detective turned around in his seat again and devoted his complete attention to the collection of files on his computer that contained every detail they had collected on the Kira case so far. He had decided that he would review them until he had found something, anything, that would help them move on. He would not rest until they had more to show for than an imprisoned, scared girl for Kira #2 and a mere suspect for Kira #1. 

A sighed behind him. When she spoke up again, her voice was surprisingly soft: 

"L, I'm not going to hurt you, it's okay. You don't need to be scared." 

He spun around so fast that he almost fell out of his chair. 

"I'm _not_ scared! I just don't want to. And you will call me Ryuzaki, as I believe I have explained before."

Too late he realised that he sounded like a child. She smiled encouragingly at him and padded the spot next to her, making him feel even more like a misbehaving toddler. 

"Then come here, it's not going to take long." 

He searched in his mind for the most offensive, hurtful and clear way to shut her up for good, but she preempted him when she added in a more serious tone: 

"Or do I need to get Wammy up here?" 

He winced a little at that name. He had almost forgotten that she was one of his, too. No, he did not want her to get him; he didn't want to argue with him. And more importantly: he did not want Wammy to be worried, especially not about him. 

With the last bit of dignity that was left to him, he raised his chin, got up and went over to the sofa, glaring at her all the while. If looks could kill, she would have been very, very dead. He sat down as far away from her as physically possibly. She raised one of her eyebrows in a very charming way at that, and L found that so unfathomably annoying that he almost got up again. 

_For Wammy_ , he thought with determination and set his jaw. 

"Thank you, kind sir," A said sarcastically, "Would you now also do peasant me the honour of rolling up your sleeve, m'lord?" 

He did as she asked, and she got a pressure cuff out of her case as well. With skilled, delicate fingers, she placed it a little over the crook of his arm and placed the tips of her stethoscope in her ears. He watched her hands with the little delicate drawings of Henna on them; helixes, flourishes and stylised birds and ladybugs. 

When she put the chest piece of the stethoscope onto the crook of his arm, he looked into her face at the same time that she looked into his, and their eyes met. She smiled slightly at him and he quickly diverted his eyes onto his arm again. 

L watched as she pumped up the cuff and then slowly let the air out again; watching the pressure gauge with a concentrated face. 

"Hm," she said as she was done and removed the cuff, "100/60. That's a bit low for someone of your age and gender, but nothing to worry about, as long as you don't feel dizzy or anything. Do you have a history of low blood pressure?" 

L shrugged and A nodded and extracted a small folder out of her bag. The detective could not understand what she wrote into it. When A looked up and followed his eyes, she grinned. 

"German," she explained, "I know that you can't understand it, and I also know that you would read your own medical file if I wrote it in a language you are capable of, so… there you go." 

L said nothing to that, because it was absolutely true. He figured he could learn to understand German in about three days, give or take, but right now he could not afford that kind of time and effort. It annoyed him that she had known what he was planning on doing before he had said even six complete sentences to her.

"For the past five years, I have been working in Berlin," she told him unbiddenly and placed her index and middle finger on his wrist while looking at her watch. They felt warm on his skin. 

"Charité. Wammy somehow organised me a few secret laboratories to work in - wow, that sounds super dramatic, doesn't it? Secret laboratory. Well, it really were just labs that no-one else used or cared about - and a couple of aliases to use as a doctor. He says that people shouldn't know my true identity, and that it's good for me if I can disappear within the blink of an eye. I'm not entirely sure why; I mean, I'm a doctor, not a mob boss. But I owe him everything, and so far he has never been wrong about anything, and so I mostly stay in the shadows. Did you know that I have a few Nobel prizes? I just never go to collect them, it's always someone we hired. Sometimes men, sometimes women; old and young. Also, we -" 

"I don't care," L interrupted her. It was not entirely true; he did want to hear about how Wammy had managed to hide her from him and the rest of the world for so long. But he did not want to hear it from her, and certainly not while she was less than ten inches away from him. 

And anyway, why was she talking so much at all? Had he not made very clear that he wished no conversation with her? Maybe it was something you learned as a doctor. 

A did not blink an eye, removed her hand from his wrist and simply informed him: "You have a pulse of 90. Are you nervous?" 

He shook his head no.

"Then maybe you should start doing some cardio."

There was a playful sparkle in her eyes, but L ignored the comment and asked coldly: "Are we done?"

She giggled stupidly as if he had suggested something incredibly ridiculous. 

"Oh, no, sunshine. Please remove your shirt for me, I'll hurry up. And don't worry, I'll be silent as a grave, your majesty." 

He stared at her. "I'm not removing my shirt." 

She rolled her eyes.

"What, do you think I'm this desperate? Ryuzaki, I'm a doctor and this is a standard procedure. If I wanted to seduce you, this would not be the way I'd do it."

For the fraction of a second, he wondered which way would be the way she would do it if this was not it, and then almost slapped himself for that thought. He realised that she had used his alias for the first time, and he also realised that it was a peace offering of sorts. He ignored it. 

"No, I'm not taking off my shirt, and this has been going on for long enough. I need to work. People are dying."

"You are dying," she gave back drily and as he got up to leave, she grabbed his wrist.

"No!" Quickly and forcefully, he remove his arm from her hand. _Too quickly and too forcefully._

Her eyes widened for a moment and she looked at him scrutinizingly. There was no emotion in her face but mild interest, and it made L feel like a scientist's lab rat.

She was the first to break eye contact to write something into his medical file. L felt a sting of desperate anger. He was no-one's object under test; and he was not used to being analysed like this. Normally, he was the one doing the analysing. 

"Okay," she said friendly to his surprise, "at least let me take you temperature."

He let her. A agreeing to stop the examination had taken the wind out of his sails and reduced his burning anger to a steaming annoyance. 

"37.2° Celsius. That's fine," she informed him and he acknowledged it with a short nod. She yawned. 

"Well, then I guess we can finally go to bed. It's been quite a day, especially for you, I imagine. But travelling to Japan is also pretty tiresome, I gotta admit."

"Hmm. Yes." L had not the slightest intention of going to bed, or even leaving this room, but he certainly was not going to tell her.

"Alrighty then." She put her instruments and the file back into her case and half-smiled at him. "Goodnight, almighty detective. Can't wait to see you save the world tomorrow."

He grunted in response, and A walked towards to door, heading for the room that Wammy had undoubtedly prepared for her without informing L. 

In the doorway, she suddenly stopped.

"You are not going to sleep." She did not turn around, and it was obvious that she had only realised it a few moments ago, and yet it wasn't a question. She said it with such confidence that L did not bother to argue. It was none of her concerns anyway. 

"Ryuzaki." All playfulness had left A's voice, and it was not soft or merry anymore, either. It was the same cold tone she had used the first time when she told him his prognosis, and her body stood very still and very stiff. She still did not turn around. 

"You need to sleep. Your body desperately needs rest, especially your brain. You will not be able to function for long anymore if you don't. I thought I had made that clear." 

"I will sleep when I want to. I'm an adult, in case you haven't noticed, and I did not ask for your advice or your help. I thought _I_ had made that clear."

L could almost feel the air between them charging up, and if it hadn’t been impossible, he was sure that if she turned around and looked into his eyes, lightnings would flash between them. 

"You underestimate me. There is nothing I would not do for Wammy, which means that there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you alive and get your health better. I will sedate you if you don't go to sleep. I will put you into a medically induced coma if I must. I don't care how many people Kira kills in the meantime. It's your choice."

L balled his hands into fists, but his voice was calm, quiet and collected. "Are you threatening me?" 

"You tell me, _detective_. And while you're at it, tell me if I'm bluffing, or if I wouldn't know if you try to trick me." 

Finally, she turned around and her blue, blue eyes pierced into him. In them, L could read the answers to all of the questions she had just asked him. He knew that she, once again, had the upper hand in this.

He stared back at her with pure hatred rushing through his veins. _Who does she think she is?_

But there was nothing he could do - except perhaps throw a chair at her, but he failed to see how that would improve his situation in the long run - and so he turned around and marched out of the room the other way, head held high. 

"Good boy," was the last thing he heard before he slammed the door so loudly that the bang still echoed in his ears twenty minutes later, as he lay in a proper bed for the first time in weeks. 

In a way, he was almost grateful about at least one thing; namely that he had finally remembered to take a shower - the first one in four days. Sometimes, when we worked a very difficult case, everything else was pushed into the background, and that included personal hygiene.

He had to admit that the feeling of the fresh sheets on his freshly cleaned skin felt… nice.

But that was all that was even remotely pleasant about this situation. With big eyes, he stared up at the dark ceiling. He could not close them. He could not sleep. 

L knew what would happen if he tried. And so he started to recite all the evidence he could remember off the top of his head.

"Kira number one needs a face and a name to kill. He kills criminals that he deems guilty. He gets his information over the general media. Recently, he has started killing people that oppose him, regardless if they have committed a crime or not. He is extremely intelligent. He lives in the Kanto-region. There is a 90% chance that Light Yagami is Kira number one. Light Yagami has not joined the investigation since Misa Amane has been taken into custody. Kira number two needs only a face to kill. There is physical evidence in our possession that proves that Misa Amane is Kira number two."

He paused for a moment, and then he repeated it, adding here and there when he remembered something else. 

L repeated this like a mantra or a prayer; again and again, until he fell into an exhaustive state of semi-sleep and semi-awareness in the early morning hours. 

When his alarm clock finally released him at six a.m., he felt as if someone had slammed his head into the wall repeatedly. He decided that he would definitely not be doing this again, no matter what A threatened him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thanks for reading; & thank u for the kudos, kind strangers. 
> 
> Comments are always greatly appreciated. If you have any suggestions or things u would like to read, i will do my best to work them into the story. 
> 
> Same goes for criticism, of course. 
> 
> :)


	4. Observing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L pays the price for not listening to A. A meets Light.

"You haven't slept." 

"And a good morning to you, too," L replied hoarsely and ill-tempered. Somehow, someway, A had beaten him to the kitchen. She was sitting on the counter and examining him over the brim of a newspaper.

He would have turned on his heels and left again, but his need for coffee won over the urge to put a minimal distance of at least 30 meters between them.

"Oh, don't even bother," A said as she saw him shuffle into the direction of the coffee machine and turned her eyes onto the paper in front of her again, "I threw the coffee out. There's tea though, if you'd like. And hot chocolate. Low sugar, though. What do you want for breakfast?" 

L felt positively murderous, but he also felt tired and his brain was still slow - he would lose another argument if he were to provoke one, he knew, and he wasn't sure if the both of them would survive that without major injuries. 

"Nothing," he mumbled, "need to work."

With a deep and dramatic sigh, A put the paper down and looked at him in a disappointed sort of way, like a mother lecturing her unruly child. 

"L, we have been over this. Before you work, you need to eat, you know you do. And I'm not discussing it. Wammy's also coming up, he's bringing sandwiches. He should be here in about five minutes." 

"Sandwiches for breakfast?" 

She shrugged. "Sure, why not? It's a good and healthy way to start the day, lots of carbohydrates and vitamins. At least the ones I ordered." 

She grinned, and L leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and looked at her more closely. Instead of the jeans, she wore a black pair of leggings today, and a very baggy dark blue sweatshirt that said "Liar" on it. Apparently, she had already gotten comfortable around here. 

"Hardly an appropriate outfit for a doctor," he commented and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you're hardly an appropriate patient," she shot back and her grin grew wider, "never doing as I tell you to do. It would drive anyone mad."

L's lips curled upwards into what was almost the suggestion of a smile, too. Quickly, he said:

"Call Wammy Watari while you are here. And I am –" 

"Ryuzaki," she finished for him and threw her hands in the air while rolling her eyes, "I know, I know." 

A hopped off the counter and her smile disappeared. As she walked a few steps closer towards him, she cocked her head to the side a little and examined him in that calculating, unblinking way that she had. It reminded him a little of a cat.

"Honestly, though," A asked in a suddenly very serious tone, "why didn't you sleep?" 

Uncomfortably, L put his hands into his pockets, but he managed to hold her gaze. He wanted to ask her how she knew that he hadn't, but what he said instead was:

"I don't often sleep. It's normal, I've always been like this. It's more productive when I work."

As quickly as it had come, her weird attitude was gone and she was back to her usual annoying self. 

"There's a word for that, genius," she informed him arrogantly with a roll of her eyes, "it's called insomnia. It's an illness. Look it up if you must."

She turned around abruptly and opened the kitchen cabinet to get three plates out of it.

"Besides, have you taken a look in a mirror lately? I don't think so. Which, to be honest, is a relief to all the mirrors in this world. You look like a raccoon, to say it nicely." 

"I do _not_ look like a raccoon." L blinked. 

"As I said, I was being nice." A chuckled. "Now help me set the table, you useless insomniac." 

"Why?" 

" _Why?_ What do you mean, why? Because I'm not your bloody servant, you idiot!" 

She grabbed a wooden spoon from the kitchen unit, swirled and smacked him over the head with it. With a surprised gasp, L jumped backwards. 

"Ouch," he said pointedly and rubbed the place on his head where she had hit him exaggeratedly, even though it hadn't actually hurt. 

A rolled her eyes for what seemed like the two hundredth time in what had barely been two days. 

"Don't be such a man child. And start treating me with respect; I'm a doctor, not a housekeeper. I have a spoon here and I'm not afraid to use it!" 

Threateningly, she pointed the wooden cooking utensil at him as if it were a knife or a gun. A grinned and L twisted his mouth sourly, although she thought to see a tiny hint of an amused sparkle in his eyes. 

"That's not what I meant, as you should be well aware. You seem to have a talent for misunderstanding things you would like to misunderstand in order to shift your persona into the center of attention. A very annoying trait, I remark. Be that as it may, I would prefer to eat alone and get some work done." 

"Don't talk to me like you're the late Earl of Baxter-Cromwell. You're not even twenty-five yet, for crying out loud! Can you talk normally as well? And no, we will be eating together with Wammy – Watari – and have conversations that do not involve murder or the like. Like the functional social adults that we are." 

A shot him a meaningful glance and raised her eyebrows, as if she was daring him to disagree. He promptly did. 

"I work fine without any form of social interaction. I work _best_ without it. I appear to find it rather annoying." 

"Oh, really?" Grinning smugly, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "Then why have you been talking to me this whole time, pray tell? A person that you hate and were under no obligation to talk to whatsoever? You're lonely, L."

L glared at her for a moment.

"I don't hate you," he stated simply and without a hint of emotion in his voice. For the first time, he caught her off guard. The grin disappeared and her eyes grew wider. 

"Y-you don't?" 

"Hate would be far too strong an emotion to waste on a simple nuisance such as you," the detective explained and shrugged carelessly, "I preserve my hate for people like Kira. People of actual importance." 

"Oi!" The wooden spoon came flying into his direction. In the last second, he ducked and it went flying over his head– just to hit an unfortunate Watari square in the face. 

"What's going on?" the older man asked, mortified.

"It was him!" A hurried and pointed her finger accusingly at L. 

"It was not me!" the accused revolted in outrage, "It was her! She has been sticking that thing into my face all morning, and she threw out _the coffee!_ Watari, I sincerely doubt that this person will do any good to me or this investigation. Besides –" 

L stopped his little outburst when he saw Watari's face. He was _smiling_. Before he could penetrate into the secret of why being hit in the face by a spoon was reason for smiling, Watari placed a small box on the table. 

"They made what you asked for," he told A and ignored all of what L had just said, "they were very… respectful when I mentioned who sent me." 

A nodded in satisfaction. "As they should be."

They sat down at the table and Watari revealed the contents of the box. Sandwiches indeed, made with very dark bread. L carefully nibbled on one of them. Cream cheese and a lot of vegetables. Avocado, tomato, salad, pepper, and some he couldn't even _name_. Well, then again it wasn't like he was the go-to-expert concerning vegetables, but _still._

The bread had sunflower seeds and other grains on its crust. L started peeling them off and eating them singularly. He noticed A watching him from across the table and ignored it. 

"Why do you sit like that? You always do it," she asked after a while, referring to his crouching position on the chair. 

"Sitting down normally reduces my brain function by 40%." All his attention remained focused on the seeds.

"Ah." L had thought she would make fun of him or give a snarky comment of biological facts disproving him, but she seemed satisfied with his answer. 

"If I were you, I wouldn't work today, L," A said after ten more minutes.

"Ryuzaki," he corrected almost automatically, "and obviously that is not an option. I don't have anymore time for this." 

With that, he got up and left the table. No-one stopped him. 

When the detective had left the room, Wammy sighed and looked at his remaining sandwich. Not even one third of it had been eaten. 

"Don't worry," A said lightly, "I need to study him first. He sure is an odd one, but I think I have a few ideas on how to get him where we want him to be." 

She grabbed the sandwich from his plate and ate that, too. 

*********************************************

When the other members of the task force joined L today, Light arrived with his father. He showed no sign of being unnerved by the fact that Misa Amane had been imprisoned by them. He did, however, express his concerns about the very harsh conditions under which she was kept, as any compassionate human would.

He asked L how he was feeling, in a very polite and unintrusive way.

He was charming and pleasant and appeared to be as determined to catch Kira as the rest of them. 

L felt doubts start to rise in the back of his mind again. Could he really have been wrong all this time? He needed certainty, and fast. 

A walked into the room in this particular moment. When she noticed Light, she stopped in her tracks. 

"Oh, hello. I believe we haven't met." She examined him for a moment from where she was standing, then a bright smile lit up her features, she walked over to him and extended a hand. 

"I'm A," she said eagerly and shook Light's hand. A greeting she had given to none of the other present people. Matsuda and Mogi exchanged a glance. 

Light smiled graciously back down upon her; he was a good bit taller than her. 

"I'm Light Yagami. I help with the investigation sometimes. And you…?" 

A vaguely waved her hand in the air. "Oh, well, my role's not that cool, I'm afraid. I just help Watari and L out a bit sometimes. I make very good tea. So if you'd like some… just let me know."

Her hand lingered a moment longer than necessary on his and she looked into his eyes. He smiled again and she blushed prettily. Apparently, Light's charm did not fail its effect on her, either. 

"Well, it’s good to see such a nice new face around here," Light said nonchalantly. 

L loudly cleared his throat and almost rolled his eyes at them. The last thing he needed in this investigation was a maiden in love. He only wondered why she had downplayed herself so much when usually she was so good at establishing that she was such a great doctor. 

Maybe she had somehow found out that he suspected Light Yagami of being Kira and wanted to appear harmless in front of him? No, there was no way she could have found out. None of the people who knew would tell her that information. Besides, she practically threw herself at Light… not the attitude of someone who was scared of Kira.

A did not deign to look at anybody else in the room (let alone greet them) and took her usual spot on the sofa. L and the others quickly informed Light about the things they had found out so far… Which was not a lot at all. 

"I would like you to see for yourself and tell me what you think," L finished the roundup and turned on the computer screen as well as the microphone. 

"Miss Amane, are you ready to tell us something about Kira?" he asked into the latter. She gave no sign of even having heard the question. L pressed the button again.

"I'm sorry about these circumstances. I promise that things will get better if you just give us a little information."

The blonde girl shivered slightly but remained silent.

L paused for a moment before pressing the button that activated the microphone a third time. 

"Miss Amane, I would like you to talk to a colleague of mine. Light Yagami."

This time, she actually lifted her head. The detective's eyes narrowed, then he looked over his shoulder at the other man. Light nodded in determination and sat down next to L. But before he could do anything, A's voice suddenly spoke up from right behind them. 

"I think it's finally my turn now." 

Before any of them could do anything, she grabbed the microphone and took it off of the table.

"No!" L jumped to his feet. "You're going to ruin it! Give it back!" 

"What am I going to ruin?" she snapped back at him and held the microphone behind her back, "your little tea party here? Because you're just not going to get her to talk like this, I promise you!" 

Thankfully, he had longer arms than her and simply reached over her shoulder and retrieved the object of interest from there. 

"You're too _stupid_ to understand this! And no, you can't talk to her! You're only here because of Watari, not because I have any actual trust in your abilities. I know that you're an _idiot!"_

L knew he sounded ridiculous, but Light talking to Misa Amane to evaluate their reactions was so important, and A just had the nerve to ruin it with her childish behaviour. 

"Give me the microphone, you pompous twat!" she screeched. 

In the next second, she threw herself against him full force in order to get to it, which send him stumbling backwards over his chair. The both of them went crashing to the ground, A on top of him. 

Fortunately, he held the microphone high enough so that it didn't shatter on the ground. With his other hand, he tried to keep A distanced enough so that she wouldn't be able to reach it and simultaneously to push her off of him. 

It did not work very well and soon enough they were a wild bundle of grabbing hands, kicking feet, yelled insults and muttered curses. 

Matsuda stared at them horrifiedly, Light had raised his eyebrows so high they almost touched his hairline and Mogi and Yagami senior exchanged a determined nod. 

The latter two men marched over and each of them grabbed one of the squabblers by shoulder and collar and pulled them apart. 

A's eyes were spraying sparkles and she was still kicking when she was way too far away to reach L.  
L looked like a plucked owl; his hair was standing into every direction possible, his eyes were huge, he was panting and… pale? 

"That's enough," Souichirou Yagami said sternly, "We have no time for this kindergarten." 

He urged L back onto his chair, put the microphone where it belonged and looked at his son. "Light, please just continue." 

L felt weirdly queasy. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Light," A stepped in again and swatted Mogi's hand off her shoulder, "I would move away from there, honestly. It's going to happen any moment now." 

"What's going to happen?" Light asked suspiciously but remained seated where he was. L swallowed. It suddenly felt like he had too much saliva in his mouth.

Instead of an answer, A started counting down. "10...9...8.."

The older Yagami frowned, Mogi shifted his weight uneasily and Matsuda's hand actually went to the gun on his belt. 

Calmly, A went over to the bin in the corner and dumped its contents on the ground. "7...6...5…"

When she walked back over with it, Light did get up from his chair and moved a few steps backwards, frowning. "4...3...2…"

A shoved the bin under L's chin. "1."

Confusedly, he looked up at her and just wanted to ask her what on earth he was supposed to do with this now, when suddenly his stomach did a full 180 and send its contents up his oesophagus. 

L threw up the remainders of his pitiful breakfast into the bin while A was watching him self-congratulatoryly. 

Then she bawled the other men out: "What are you still standing around there for? To gawk and gape, hm? Have you no decency?! Out, out, shoo! I'm sure you'll find something else to do, oh great detectives. Go home, for all I care!" 

L wanted to protest, but he heaved again and could not say anything. The detectives toddled off with their heads pulled between their shoulders. Only Light shot one last glance at A and L, then he was gone, too. 

"There you go," A said and her voice was completely changed. She spoke softly and quietly now. L realised she was still holding the bin for him, and he quickly took it into his own hands. "I'm sorry that I showed you up like that, but you just wouldn't listen. I told you not to work today." 

"You couldn't know… this would happen," L wheezed. It had been supposed to sound cool and unimpressed, but even in his ears it sounded genuinely pathetic. 

A sighed and pulled his hair from his forehead that was now covered in cold sweat with one hand and held it in place so that it wouldn't fall back. 

"Of course I knew. Caffeine and sugar are both addictive, and your body is crashing down from a long-time high, L – sorry, Ryuzaki. And you didn't sleep or eat like I told you to… If you hadn't refused to listen, I would have told you exactly that." 

L did not reply. A noticed that he was shaking now and felt a twinge of true sympathy in her heart… even though she had warned this arrogant idiot a million times that this would happen.

"Are you done for now?" she asked, a little more sternly. _He should learn from his mistakes._

"Yes, I think so." His voice was tiny and miserable and her resolution to be stern with her patient deflagrated. Because in the end, that was what he was. A patient. An arrogant, annoying, smartass, know-it-all, exhausting, stupid, idiotic genius patient, admittedly, but a patient nonetheless. Someone she was sworn to protect. 

"Then, should we go to the sofa? I think that would be more comfortable."

He nodded meekly, got up, swayed a little but regained his balance and walked over to the sofa. When he flopped onto it, she realised that he had to be feeling truly shitty, because he sat like a normal person for once. 

"I’m just gonna go empty this," A declared, took the bin and vanished. L was glad she did; he couldn’t stand the stench. He was also glad she had sent the others away. He wondered how many more hits his ego needed to take before this case was over. 

When A returned, she asked him if it would be alright if she infused him some fluid and electrolytes. _Yes, that would be okay._ Did he want something for the nausea? _Yes, that too._ Did he think he needed to throw up again? _No._

L realised that she was acting very professionally. She did not lecture or taunt him once, and she asked his permission before every step she took. She spoke with a distant sort of compassion. He also realised that this was a kindness towards him. 

When A left the room again, she speed-dialled a number and L could hear her say:

"Hey, Wammy. The others are gone now… What do you mean, 'what happened'? Exactly what I said would happen, just like I predicted. As usual... Yes, he's okay. I have everything under control… sure, you can come up…. Hm, yes, that would be best, I think. Alright." 

She came back with a plastic bag of see-through fluid, a metal stand for the bag, a plastic tube with a needle at its end and a small white zip bag. She was also carrying a blanket and a lunchbox. 

A produced a pair of gloves and disinfectant from the white bag. She put on the gloves, opened the package of the tube and needle, connected the tube to the bag with the fluid and disinfected the crook of his arm. She almost looked like a proper doctor as she did this.

L watched as the needle hovered over his arm. 

"You think Light Yagami is Kira," A said suddenly. L was so surprised that he did not even notice as the needle pierced through his skin. 

"Who told you?" he asked angrily, although it still sounded hoarse.

"Don’t worry, it wasn’t one of your minions." A put a plaster from the white bag over the needle to fix it in place, then she removed her gloves. She also spread the blanket over him.

"Then how do you know?" He watched as she moved up a small cog on the tube. The liquid started dripping into his vein.

Instead of an answer, she opened the lunchbox and took out a cracker. Invitingly, she held it out to him. L understood and considered this with a sour expression for a moment. Then, his curiosity won. 

He took the cracker and A waited until he had eaten all of it, then she said:

"I know a psychopath when I meet one."

"Light Yagami is psychopath?"

"Uh-huh, pretty sure."

"Why do you think so?"

Another cracker was offered to him. He took it.

"It’s… mostly the way they carry themselves. Psychopaths, I mean." A half-shrugged. "The way they control a room. And of course, they are very charming when they want to be. Light pretended to be attracted to me, even though he very clearly wasn’t. Why would he do that, unless he hopes to use it to manipulate me later on?"

"But maybe he really was attracted to you," L disagreed, "you are conventionally attractive, after all."

A made an exaggeratedly shocked face and placed a hand over her heart.  
"Why, was that a compliment? Out of your mouth? The end must be near!"

L shot her a disapproving glance and waved his current cracker in front of her face, to show that he deserved straight answers.

She half-smiled and explained: "His pupils. When we see something we like or desire, they expand. His were pretty small, and they remained that way throughout our whole conversation. Also, I took his pulse while I was shaking his hand."

L stared at her. _So that’s why she acted so weirdly._

"Hm. So he is a psychopath. So what? Maybe he is just your friendly neighbourhood psychopath. It does not necessarily mean that he is Kira."

He took another cracker from the box without her having to offer one.

"True. But as I said… I took his pulse. In the beginning, it was pretty fast. He was scared or at least upset because he could not place me. I didn’t fit into his perfect puzzle, and he couldn’t evaluate me yet. But the more I babbled, the calmer his pulse became. I didn’t pose a threat anymore. Psychopaths need to control everything, and I suppose Kira even more so. Also, you mentioned him to your prisoner. And you focus all of your attention on him whenever he says or does anything or just breathes into your general direction – so unless you are waiting for the perfect moment to confess your undying love for him, I conclude that you have him under suspicion for murder."

L stared at her with his unblinking, dark and owlish eyes. There was no sign of emotion in them, and for the first time, A felt like she could not win a staring contest against him. After a moment, she uncomfortably lowered her eyes. 

"I don’t think you should let him talk to your prisoner," she told the ground, "I’m sure they would have a secret way of communicating. If he is Kira."

L crossed his arms when he realised something. "Is that why you made such a scene about the microphone today, when I asked Light to speak to her?"

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Might be."

"That was absolutely ridiculous and in no way your place." The detective frowned. 

"Maybe. But it was also very funny. I had you exactly where I wanted you!" A giggled.

"You did _not!_ I was winning!"

A laughed her good laugh at that, and he couldn't help but smile along. Promptly, she pretended to faint. 

"Oh no, a smile," she exclaimed while fanning herself air, "this truly must be the end!" 

He threw a pillow at her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao im sorry that I make you suffer like this, L. But you had it coming, considering your lifestyle n all. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know if you did, or if you have suggestions or critique. Hopefully i managed to work in the suggestion from last chapter well enough.
> 
> Stay healthy!


	5. Chapter 4: Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fun, some angst, some plot. Also, the title of this chapter sucks, I’m sorry.

A took the pillow that he had thrown at her, grinned and layed down on her stomach in front of the sofa, head on the pillow. She looked up at him from there and raised an eyebrow. 

"So, how do you think Kira kills?"

It was a serious topic, but her voice sounded merry, as if chatting over an interesting book she was reading. L's eyes were fixed on her as he contemplated her question. To tell her this sort of classified information was an exceptionally stupid idea, and yet… to his overwhelming shock, he found himself to be interested in what she had to say. She seemed clever enough to have some thoughtful insights (at least sometimes, when she wasn't annoying his guts out of him). L took a breath…and kept silence. 

"Alright then, keep your secrets, Gandalf." She rolled her eyes and huffed. 

"I don't even know you. You could be working with Kira," L answered blandly. For some reason, he felt like he needed to defend himself.

"Oh, yes, _brilliant_ deduction, Sherlock! I'm here working my ass off to prevent that slow suicide you've been working on for years, just so that I can kill you later. Absolutely _splendid_ , detective. Do you want to arrest me right here and now, or would you like to put me into a straightjacket first?" 

She held her wrists out towards him. 

"It is a tempting offer," L said seriously, but was betrayed by the suspicious sparkle in his eyes, "although I am very well aware that you cannot, in fact, be Kira. If you were, Matsuda would have solved this case all on his own within the first week."

She pulled a face and positioned her arms back under her chin. "You think I'm that dull? I'm offended." 

"Yep," he replied, making the 'p' pop, "Matsuda's left sock would have found out if you were Kira." 

She frowned up at him with something like surprise on her face, then she suddenly bursted out laughing. She laughed so hard that she rolled around on her back, feet in the air. It was a breathy, giggly, catchy sort of laugh that left you breathless from just listening to it.

"You little… bitch!" A gasped. He looked down upon her disdainfully. But at the same time, he felt the corners of his mouth being pulled up by an inexplicable force. 

When she had calmed down again, she rolled back onto her stomach and rested her head in her hands. 

"Well, you do have a point. Only someone dumber than dirt would agree to put up with you," she said, still a little out of breath, and L smirked at her. For a moment, she returned it, then she suddenly got serious again.

"So apparently I'm dull as hell, but nonetheless even _I_ realise that if you allow your number one suspect to talk to your second suspect, they are most likely going to have a way to communicate. I don't think that would be good."

"That is very much possible and likely," L agreed, "but it is the best chance I have. We have not gotten anything out of our suspect for days, but she might slip up if she talks to someone she is involved with. I rate her as significantly less intelligent than the actual Kira." 

"Well, that's a bit rude. Don't worry though, I'm not going to tell her." In spite of her teasing words, L could see conflicting emotions cross her face.

"If there's something else you want to say, say it," he demanded in his bland way. A bit her lip. For the first time, she seemed unsure about something. But then, determination hardened her features.

"There is another way. This is not your only chance."

L raised his eyebrows and made a small gesture with his hands. "Enlighten me."

"I could make her talk, I know I could." 

L studied her closely. Whatever she had been unsure about, this was not it. A was absolutely convinced that she could do what he and the others had all failed at.

"How?"

"I… you will see. Shouldn't it be enough to see the promised result? It's not like you commission someone to do something and then expect them to tell you all the details of their work. At least not in the real world. Not sure where you have been living."

"I'm not _'commissioning you to do something'_ ," the detective mocked and drew quotation marks into the air with his fingers, "this is the investigation of the most ambitious mass murder in history. This suspect might be our only chance to get to Kira. I can’t have you mess that up, no offense. Besides, in the real world, as you put it, detectives don't just let any civilian who happened along try their luck at playing investigator."

"Did you just call me 'a civilian who happened along'?!" A looked ready to strangle him, and in her offense her voice had gotten a higher-pitched sound. 

“Well, that’s what you are.”

“I’m not! You would be surprised at the things I have done,” she spat.

“Of course. I’m still not going to let you question our suspect.”

“Why are you constantly being such a condescending, patronizing twat?!” A yelled.

“Am not. And watch your language.” 

"Are you serious right now?! Obviously, you are! I could be the second coming of Christ und you would still fucking belittle me!" 

"The second coming of Christ? It's good to know you have such a humble opinion of yourself." 

"That's not even… you know what, forget it!" A jumped to her feet. "I'm getting claustrophobic in this room with you and your monumental ego inside of it. You are so self-centred that I'm surprised you don't have your own gravitational field. If you cared _at all_ about the people being killed or about the progress of this investigation" – accusingly, she jammed her index finger into his chest – "you would let me do this. But no, that would be unacceptable, because you couldn't carry off the laurels, hm?" 

L returned her stare, unimpressed. "My answer is still no." 

Fuming, A turned on her heels and headed for the exit of the room. 

"Moron," she mumbled under her breath. 

"Heard that."

"Good!" 

The door was slammed shut, and L was sitting alone on the sofa in the main room. 

He noticed that the blanket around his shoulders was not one of his. Hers, then. It was dark blue with tiny sunflowers imprinted on the fabric here and there. The blanket smelled of detergent, but also a tiny little bit like something else; something L could not really place. 

His gaze wandered from the blanket to the infusion stand that was still connected to his arm. Then, the detective stood up abruptly, shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and went - infusion stand in tow - to his desk, from where he retrieved a big black folder before returning to the sofa. 

The folder contained the names of all of Kira’s victims. It was the only information that L could allow himself to have a physical copy of. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was searching for, but following a spontaneous intuition, he skimmed through the pages. 

Conah Mullen - Eddison Hill - Steffano Monblack - Omov Outstrives - Junaid Dawe - Macey Couch - Lewie Booth - Sesto M. Routivov - Shaunna Stark - Amal Howe - Sanda Masahiko - Jai Brooke - Mevrosos Uvtoit - Maxwell Quinn Davison - Nikolaj Kessendre - Mark Schneider - Rian R. Kavanagh - Storm Vitus Oveo - Kumagai Setsuko - Darius Pemberton - Eros Tom Viousvt - Zachary Noel - Merv Otto Viouss - Nakagawa Yuki - Maeda Rin -

_and so on and so forth._ The names were in no particular order, and there was no information about how or when the people belonging to those names had died, or which crime they had committed to end up like that. Of course, L had all of that information in digital form safely stored away.

All of these people, reduced to ink on paper. L did not really keep this folder for reasons of investigation. He rather looked at it when he needed to be reminded that this investigation was bigger than any other case he had ever worked on, bigger than all of them combined, and certainly bigger than himself. 

He had failed all of those people. Sure, they were criminals, and perhaps this world was a better place without them - but perhaps not. Whichever the case might be, this was not justice… and L would be sure to bring them the justice that they deserved.

He wanted to close the folder and go back to work with newfound vigour, when he suddenly stopped short. Slowly, he went back and forth on the three pages that he had last skimmed through. Six names caught his eye. 

Omov Outstrives - Sesto M. Routivov - Mevrosos Uvtoit - Storm Vitus Oveo - Eros Tom Viousvt - Merv Otto Viouss 

They were anagrams of each other. 

Now, L did not believe in coincidences. And even if he had would it have been foolish to ignore this - six names with the exact same letters over the total of three pages. 

The detective crouched on the sofa in his usual position and stared at the names as if he could force them to reveal their secrets to him through sheer willpower. That’s how Wammy found him when he walked into the room a short while later. 

“Ryuzaki,” he addressed him politely and added awkwardly: “How are you feeling? A called me.”

Impatiently, the black-haired man waved a hand in the air. “Fine, fine. Would you bring me a piece of paper? And a pen. I found something.”

Wammy did as he was bidden and watched as L scribbled six names onto the paper and then, in absence of anything sweet to put into his mouth, gnawed at the pen. 

“These names,” the detective explained, “they mean something. They are -”

L felt his heart tumble in his chest. It missed a beat. And not just in the metaphorical sense, his heart actually missed a beat. All the warning bells started going off in his head, and he felt panic run up and down his spine; first hot and then ice-cold. The pen fell out of his mouth.

All thoughts were pushed aside by one monumental apprehension.

_Kira._

Was this the end? Was this what had been coming to him? Had he made a mistake, miscalculated? 

It did not feel like he had imagined a heart attack to feel. It didn't hurt, at least not a lot. And his heart had stumbled only once. Maybe he was being ridiculous.

But then it happened again. 

His heart missed a beat. Then there were two beats in the time it usually needed for one. Then a longer pause before it started to beat regularly again. 

His hand was clawing into the cushion of the sofa. It was funny how he had never before actively registered his heartbeat… until it did something out of the ordinary. Funny, and absolutely terrifying. 

_Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. Pause. Ba-dumm-dumm. Pause. Ba-dumm._

L had been in mortal danger before in his life, it came with the career. But never before had he felt such a premonition of death, or had been so mortally afraid. 

It was one thing to be threatened by someone on the outside; someone that he could outsmart or manipulate or even simply avoid. But this was different. This was out of his reach, out of his control. His own body seemed to turn against him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do except wait and hope that this wasn't the end. 

_Da-dumm. Da-dumm. Da- Pause. Da-dumm. Da-dumm-dumm. Pause. Da-dumm._

_What if it doesn't start beating again after the next pause?_

L did not want to die. 

It was an obvious thing, really, but never before had he felt it with such certainty, with such a wild and uncontrollable force behind it. 

"Ryuzaki?" Watari was watching him wearily, still waiting for him to continue his sentence. It was incomprehensible to L how the older man was unable to see the struggle within. For L, it felt like the universe had suddenly stopped turning and Kira was breathing right into his neck. Watari, on the other hand, was still in the middle of their conversation, sitting in the investigation room of the Japanese taskforce building somewhere in Tokyo. Miles and miles away, it seemed to L. 

_If I die here, right now, the world will just continue._

That was another very obvious fact. Apparently, fearing for your life gave you a tendency for thinking the absolute obvious, L assessed. 

"Where's A?" someone asked, and only after a moment he realised that it had been himself. His brain seemed to be working even without him operating it. Interesting. 

"I… don't know. Why?" Watari's voice seemed worried now. If someone had asked him, L wouldn't have been able to tell if Watari sat to his right or to his left. 

"Where's A?" he asked again. It wasn't what he had wanted to say, but he figured it was as good as anything. He noticed that his breath was coming more rapid now. However, at the same time, it felt like no air was reaching his lungs at all. 

_Symptoms of a heart attack include shortness of breath_ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like A's said in his head, with a malicious sort of joy. And it didn't stop there. 

_You will have a heart attack, and your body is in no condition to survive a heart attack. You will die, and no-one will ever know if it was because of a Kira attack or because of your own stupid self_ , the voice repeated what she had told him when they first met. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe it had already been too late for him. 

"I'm going to go get her," Watari said from far away. He got up and left the room. L wanted him to stay. 

_Da-dumm. Da-dumm. Da - Pause. Dumm. Dumm. Da-dumm._

Maybe he should have been less careless with himself. 

His heart was beating faster now, and harder. He could feel it hammering in his chest, against his ribcage. Like a drum that was out of rhythm. 

_Da-dumm-da-dumm-da-da-dumm-pause-da-pause-dumm-da-dumm-da-dumm_

_Maybe A isn't coming. I made her angry._

_Dumm-da-dumm-pause-pause-da **dummDadummDadummDadummDummDadummDadumm**_

_Kira can manipulate the death of his victims. Maybe he is making me die slowly. Maybe he gets satisfaction out of this._

_DadummPauseDadummDaDaDummPausePauseDadummDadummPause-Pause-Pause-_

_What if it doesn't start beating again?!_

_**daDUMM-DADUMM-DADUMM-DA-DA-DUMM-PAUSE-DUMM-DADUMM-** _

_I don't want to die._

And then, suddenly, she was there. Her blue eyes were right in front of him. He half expected to see his own fear being reflected back at him, but those eyes were calm and deep like the sea. They smiled at him.

"Hey, there," she said softly and without any haste or pity in her voice. Slowly, L was able to register more than just her eyes. She was kneeling in front of him, a stethoscope around her neck. For the first time, he actively noticed the freckles around her nose and eyes. 

It dawned on him that this might be the last thing he ever saw in his life. Well, it could be worse, he decided. He could be lying somewhere in the dirt, choking on his own blood. Or drowning, which he had always been afraid of. Or staring into the victorious eyes of Kira. Yes, this was a good alternative. 

Still, it would be nice if it wasn't the last time he saw that face, or anything else, for that matter.

"What's going on, Ryu?" A asked friendlily, not bothering to finish the last two syllables of his alias. His skin was paler than she had ever seen it; it seemed almost transparent. His eyes were opened up so wide that they almost formed perfect circles. They stared into her own.

Even if L had been able to reply, he didn't know how to form a coherent sentence anymore. A gently took his hand that was somehow pressed against his chest, right over his heart. L had no idea or memory of how it got there. She put the buds of her stethoscope in her ears, and placed the chest piece where moments ago his hand had been, and listened intently. 

_**DADUMM-DADUMM-PAUSE-DADUMMDUMM-DA-DUMM-PAUSE-PAUSE-DA** _

"Wammy, there is a big black bag with one blue stripe on it in my room, sorta looks like a gym bag," she said in a voice that would have made any provost marshal blush, "I'm gonna need it." 

Watari hurried off. 

With fast and confident fingers, A opened the bag that she had left here earlier for another pair of gloves, and then another bag she had apparently brought along with her just now. Only at the brim of his vision did L notice those things, because he just couldn't look away from her eyes. 

The part of him that had made him who he was - the three greatest detectives in the world, amongst other things - was aware that this would change nothing, that it didn't matter where he looked or what he saw. 

But another part of him, a part that he hadn't known existed, or maybe had forgotten, was convinced that if he looked away from those eyes, and be it just for a second, he would cease to exist forever. And so he stared. A didn't return his gaze anymore, her eyes were focused on a syringe now. 

She filled the syringe with liquids from different bottles out of her bag; quickly and systematically, as if she had been in this exact situation a hundred times already. 

"You're experiencing cardiac arrhythmia," she explained categorically as she worked, "I am most certain that they are atrial fibrillations as well as early afterdepolarizations, but I will run an ECG to confirm."

A removed the IV line from his arm that was still attached even though the infusion had long passed through. The venous access she had used for the infusion was left in his arm, and she used it again to administer the contents of the syringe into his bloodstream.

"This is not uncommon for people who have been malnourished for a longer time… or have trouble sleeping, or have a lot of stress, or have a history of abusing caffeine," she explained, but her voice was free of accusations or malicious joy. She pulled syringe and access form his arm. 

"This is _not_ a heart attack, and also, this is _not_ Kira," she said as if she had read his thoughts, and then went on: 

"I administered beta blockers, to slow down your heart rate, and electrolytes. Potassium, most of all. Amiodipine, a calcium channel blocker, will lower your blood pressure and allow more blood to flow to your heart. Lidocaine will help your heart regain its electrical current." 

A fell silent and studied him. From his unruly raven hair that stuck out in every direction possible, over his pale skin and dark eyes to the crouching, tensed position of his limbs. He might have been made out of stone, if he hadn't been betrayed by the rapid expansion of his chest and the widened eyes. She wondered how she would react if it was her heart betraying its own rhythm. Not like this, most likely. But even though he was very good at not letting any of the fear he undoubtedly felt on, A could see that he was just crossing the line to hyperventilation. 

A removed the gloves and the stethoscope from her neck and put them aside. Then, she hesitantly reached out and gently touched L's shoulders. 

"L, I know that this feels very scary. But you are going to be alright, I promise. Again, this is not a heart attack, and not Kira's doing. It's a relatively normal occurrence, all things considered, and I'm treating it. I am the most capable doctor I have ever met, if I may say so myself – most humbly, of course. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm right here, I'm a very good doctor, and I will make sure you are going to be alright. And now I need you to _calm down."_

The last sentence was such a huge contrast to the rest of her affirmations - which had been soothing and gentle - that she might as well have slapped him across the face. It sounded harsh and demanding. It wasn't a suggestion, or a request – it was a command. L was so stunned that he almost forgot to be scared for a second.

People did not generally tend to give him commands, and if they did, L was very good at ignoring them.

That was mostly because what they had to say was either entirely moronic, or, if it wasn't, L had already done whatever they intended for him to do in the first place. 

So no, L did not do well with commands, or demands, or even pushing requests. This one, however, he followed. Or at least, tried to follow. He could feel his heartbeat through every major artery in his body; in his arms, on his neck and forehead, in his legs and on his thorax; and it was still out of rhythm. 

"L, calm down," she said again. _Easy_ for you to say, he wanted to throw back at her, but he still had not found his voice. Slowly, very slowly, he felt the beta blockers and whatever else she had given him take effect. 

His heart rate declined, and his breathing slowed as well. Then, both became more regular again. His heart only missed a few beats anymore, until that was over, too.

_Da-dumm. Da-dumm. Da-dumm. Da-dumm. Da-dumm._

When the tension left his body, L felt himself crumble like a house of cards in the wind, and he couldn't hold himself up properly anymore. A's hands were still on his shoulders, steadying him, and she shook him slightly.

"Hey, look at me."

That was the second command he ever followed in his life, even though it took him almost inhumane effort to lift his head. 

Hazily, he wondered if he had ever before seen eyes this impossibly blue. Maybe she had genetically modified them. Was something like that possible?

Their color reminded him of the ocean. He had never been to the ocean himself. He had never really seen a reason for that; it was salt water all the way up to the horizon, and sand in front of it. Where was the point? 

Strangely, the colour of her eyes made him want to see the ocean. 

"You're okay now," A said. And a few moments or a few hours later (L wasn't really able to tell), Watari came back with the gym bag. The bag contained what looked like a weird square machine with lots of arms to L. 

His shirt was removed, and Wammy helped him to lie down on his back. Electrodes were placed on his bare chest, and then it beeped a few times. As L was lying there, he started to regain control over his muscles and his mind. What had he been thinking about? Something about… water? It had seemed important, but right now he just couldn't remember it, no matter how hard he tried. _Most likely not that important, then._

A showed him some zigzag lines on the ECG machine that was connected to the electrodes. They told L absolutely nothing, and she started explaining about QRS complexes and T- or P-waves. L did not care about those things in the least, and so he just watched her talk, feeling his heart beat steadily and strongly, and his lungs sucking in air effortlessly.

Weirdly enough, he felt… good. 

He suddenly noticed that A had stopped her babbling and was scrutinizing him.

“You okay there, Kalle Blomkvist?” she asked tentatively.

“Why do you call me all these names?” he asked back instead of a reply, ripped the electrodes off of his chest and sat up. Quickly, he pulled his shirt back over his head. L noticed that Watari had, unnoticed by him, left the room. He wondered what he was doing. 

“Huh?”

“Today alone, you have called me Gandalf, Sherlock and now, Kalle Blomkvist.” 

“Please, for the love of everything, tell me that you know who those people are.” A looked truly outraged. 

L vaguely moved his head to the side. “I can place the first two. The works of J. R. R. Tolkien and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Who’s the third one?”

“Kalle Blomkvist.” A half-smiled. “He’s a detective, too. Well, he’s a work of fiction. It was my favourite story when I was a child.” 

“Really?” Curiosity sparked in those dark eyes. 

“Yes.” She laughed. “I have always wanted to be a doctor, but I also wanted to be a detective when I was younger. I thought I would somehow have time for both.”

“Well, why didn’t you…?”

“My first interest was and always will be medicine. Not just interest… passion. It’s what I’m good at, and what I want to do for the rest of my life. If I had to choose one thing to live and die for, it would be medicine. Also, I would be a lousy detective. Whenever I read detective books or watch movies and documentaries, I can never figure out who the culprit is until after they reveal it. If I understand it at all.”

She laughed again.

“You figured out that Light Yagami is a Kira suspect.”

“Yes, but only because _you_ suspect him. I would have never suspected him on my own, not in a hundred years. And I seriously can’t imagine how you figured it out.” 

Her tone was absolutely genuine, and L nestled a little at his sleeve, somehow feeling awkward all of a sudden. 

“What’s this?” A asked abruptly. L looked up again and followed her eyes to the black folder that was still laying next to the sofa. The piece of paper was sticking out of it with one corner. 

“Classified information.”

“Hm. You’ve been working again?”

“Obviously.”

A took a deep breath and suddenly became very serious.   
"Do you know what a march fracture is, Ryuzaki?" 

"No," he admitted, "but given its name I suppose it's a bone fracture brought about by marching?" 

She didn't react to his snide comment.

"Yes, it is," she said seriously and held one hand horizontally in front of her. "This is the foot of a soldier. He marches with a lot of heavy weight on his back. All of that weight, and his own, rests on his metatarsal bones when he walks. His boots don't fit very well and he marches over a lot of uneven, tricky territory. Through repeated, moderate force effects the bones suffer what we call microtraumas." 

The fist of her other hand collided three times with her flat palm to demonstrate, as if he was a little hard of understanding. 

"Now, these microtraumas aren't horrible," she went on, "our bones are in a constant process of degradation and rebuilding, so they can take a few microtraumas without any trouble. They just need a little time to heal. But our soldier here, he doesn't give them the time to heal; he can't stop. He has orders. He marches on and on and on, for hours on end." 

As she said this, the fist collided with the palm repeatedly until she caved it in. 

"At the end of the day, his bones can't take it anymore. Our soldier has a broken foot, without ever taken a serious hit or force to it. It doesn't always take a blow of blunt force to break a bone." 

"I understand," L said blandly. 

"Do you also understand what I'm trying to say with it?" A sighed exasperatedly. 

"I… am unsure. Of course I see that there is an analogy you're trying to make. But there is nothing like a soldier here. I am at the very top of this operation, no-one gives me any orders. Except for you, as I would like to remark. And I don't march. I prefer sitting."

L tilted his head to the side and A wrung her hands in the air. 

"Stop pretending to be thicker than you are! No, nobody gives you any orders. And yet you march and march all day. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Another sigh.

"What I'm trying to say is… You think it's going to need one forceful hit to take you out, one big scheme to break you. But it doesn't. Sometimes all it takes is 'one more day'." 

She was kneeling in front of him, and came a little closer to put more emphasis on her words. Their heads were almost on the same level now, so close together that he could see tiny golden specs in her eyes. She lifted her hands and for a moment it looked almost like she was going to take his into them, but then she put them behind her back. She looked directly into his eyes.

"It has been too many days already, my friend."

"I'm your friend?"

"No," A replied decidedly, and L felt a weird sinking sensation in his stomach at that answer. She lowered her eyes, only to lift them again a moment later and add hesitantly: 

"But you could be… if you wanted to?" 

– which no-one was more shocked about than A herself. 

It was more a question than anything else, and after a moment of consideration L nodded slowly.

"Yes. I think that would be… beneficial." 

"Okay." She raised an eyebrow and did that half-smile that L still could not really make sense of. She put more distance between them again so that she could sit down more comfortably.

They sat in silence for a while, avoiding each other’s glances, until L blurted out:

"I have never had a friend."

He wondered why he had told her that. A scrutinized him for a moment and then said ruminatively:

"No. I suppose not."

"Do you have many friends?" 

She vaguely shook her head. "No, not really. I go out with people sometimes, and we greet each other and laugh and talk when we meet, but I would not call them my friends. I've just got one friend." 

"Who?" he demanded for reasons not even apparent to him. 

"He works with me," A replied factually in a voice that settled the topic. L considered pressing the matter anyway. He did not like not knowing things. He decided, however, that a more subtle approach was advisable with A. She could be very irascible. So he asked instead:

"How do we proceed?" 

Amusement sparked in her eyes and her grin was finally back. "With the whole friendship thing you mean? Well, friends trust each other, for starters."

"Hm." 

"So… you could trust me when I tell you that I can make your suspect talk?" 

"We have talked about this already," L said and crossed his arms (mostly to appear stern, and to hide that his hands were still shaking slightly).

"Yes, I know that. I had hoped that since then you might have turned a little less idiotic." 

"That was barely two hours ago."

"A girl can hope."

L took a deep breath and considered his possibilities. Yes, his original plan was risky, there was no way to deny it. But it was a good plan nonetheless. If Misa Amane admired Kira as much as her behaviour suggested, and if Light Yagami was the real Kira, there was a very high chance that she would break if he talked to her. Especially if Light read her the little speech L had prepared for him. 

Those were, admittedly, a lot of ‘if’s. Also, Kira #2, Miss Amane (L was absolutely convinced of this, even though she had not confessed yet) could kill with only a face and a name. It was frankly dangerous to allow her any contact to anyone, especially the real Kira, who might somehow get information to her. 

On the other hand, there was A; a person that L had known for a few days and could not even call by her real name – a privilege that was usually his. And she was a doctor, not an investigator or a police officer. However, he reminded himself, it should not be forgotten that she had grown up under Wammy's care, too, and that he apparently trusted her. And while she was certainly the most annoying human being L had ever met, she also seemed clever enough, and confident in her abilities. But letting her do whatever she planned on doing did not only put this operation at risk, it would also put A herself in danger. A civilian, which she was, although she tried to make it look differently. 

"You wouldn't even know what to ask her. You don't know any details of this case, and I cannot tell them to you," he said carefully. A raised her head eagerly as if she was a dog and he had just thrown her a treat. 

“I will ask her only the questions you want me to ask her. Exactly as you tell them to me. And I will get answers to them. True and honest answers. I promise!”

“You are in no position to make such a promise.”

“I am, though.”

“It would be dangerous.”

“Being here is already dangerous. Especially since you’re making no progress whatsoever.”

L fell quiet and simply examined her. 

“Let’s make a deal,” she said after a while of this and held her chin a little higher, “You give me three days and a list of questions you need the answers to. In those three days, I will question your subject in a way that I see fit. Also, you will heed each and every one of my medical advices as if they were the word of God. If at the end of those three days I have not delivered the promised result, or if you don’t feel physically better than before, I will leave and not come back. Not even for Wammy. And you can go back to… well, whatever it is that you do.”

If L was surprised at this offer, he did not let it show. After a moment of expressionless staring, he forcefully let out his breath and declared:

“Light Yagami will not be part of your questioning. He will not set another foot into this building until after the three days are over. The other police officers will watch your doing. You will lose no word of this investigation to anyone except me and the task force. Not after the three days, and also at no other point in the future. You will not tell anyone anything about me, ever. You will be recorded at all times when working this case. Our suspect will under no circumstances see your face. After those three days, regardless of whether you have kept your promises or not, you will have no part in any further investigation.” 

Her blue eyes were flashing at him when she extended a hand towards him. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

He shook her hand, but he only lightly held her fingertips with stilted fingers. A made a face. 

“Why are you touching me like I have the black plague? Come on, take my hand!”

L hesitated. She rolled her eyes and simply grabbed his hand with her own. He tensed for a second, but then relaxed. Her handshake was warm and strong, but not uncomfortable. 

“There you go, you little weirdo,” she grinned. L cocked his head to the side, ignoring her comment. 

“Now I have trusted you. Which trust do I get in return? I have been informed that friendship is a two-way street, I believe the term was.” 

A looked at him in surprise, then lowered her gaze. She kept silent for so long that L thought she might be asleep with her eyes wide open. 

“Amy,” she then said so quietly that L had to concentrate to hear it. “My real name is Amy. Well, at least part of my real name.” 

She looked up again and met his stare. Her opposite’s eyes were deep, dark and inscrutable.

“Amy,” L repeated just as quietly. To her surprise, he was smiling softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION PLEASE:  
> While cardiac arrhythmia in an otherwise healthy heart can be caused by stress, hypokalaemia, caffeine or an overstimulated thyroid gland (amongst other things) and is in most cases nothing to worry about, please always go and see your doctor when experiencing them. 
> 
> So, I hope you like this chapter. I’m sorry for the long-ish wait; university has started again for me which means I’m a bit busier than before.  
> As usual, let me know if you did enjoy it, or if you have suggestions or criticism. 
> 
> Happy easter to those of you who celebrate it, and stay healthy!


	6. Chapter 5: Day 0 - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L discovers something, Amy carries out her plan.

_August 12th, 18:42 Japan Standard Time – Day 0_

"It was a pretty lucky guess when you gave me my alias." A – Amy – cocked her head to the side and rocked back and forth, arms slung around her knees.

"I never have lucky guesses, just good ones." 

"There are many things I'm willing to believe about your intellect, Ryuzaki, but this is not one of them." She laughed, and all former incertitude fell off of her. "Everyone has a bit of luck once in a while." 

"Perhaps." L's dark eyes wandered from Amy to the black folder, carelessly discarded on the ground. He started biting around on the edge of his thumb. It had to mean something, that anagram. But what? 

Maybe it was another message from Kira? But, no, that made no sense. Kira had always hidden his messages to him in plain sight; for everyone to see but for L to figure out. 

_L, do you know the Gods of Death love apples?_

It was a taunt; nothing more and nothing less. There was no real meaning to it other than, "Hello, great detective. Come and catch me, if you can. Here, I'll make it easier for you; I'll even leave a message. So come, come and find me."

But those names, they were different. There was no guarantee for Kira that L would even find them, let alone figure out their connection or what they meant. L, of course, knew that he would figure it out eventually, as he always did – but so far, he did not have the slightest clue. 

In conclusion, there was an 83% chance that this message (whatever it might be) was not meant for him. In that case, whom was it addressed to? Was ist a message from one Kira to the other? From the real one to the imposter one, or the other way around?

That, however, would mean that it was most unlikely that Misa Amane and Light Yagami were Imposter-Kira and Kira-Kira. Choosing the names of victims as a form of communication seemed to be too risky and impractical for a Light Yagami, and too complicated to figure out for Misa Amane. 

Besides, were those names the real names of the victims? Or had they been manipulated? Who would be able to manipulate this information, and why?

L registered that Amy was talking to him, but her words never actively reached his mind. 

Until she started waving her hand in front of his face aggressively, and he had to realise that he could not ignore her any longer. 

"Hello, excuse me, your royal Genius? May I be graced with an audience, please?" She was still waving her hand around. Annoyedly, he smacked it away. 

“Yes, what do you want?”

Instead of being taken aback by his harsh tone of voice, she just rolled her eyes. 

“Jesus, calm down. We don’t want your heart to conk out again, eh?” 

L thought that it was a very poor choice of words for a doctor, but nonetheless he could not help but think that - perhaps, for once - she might be right. Not only had this… _event_ stolen a lot of time and brain capacity from him during a very important discovery, it had also been… not very pleasant, altogether. 

He sighed. 

“Fine. What do you want?” he asked again, but more calmly this time. 

“I want us to do something fun,” Amy said promptly, in a way that suggested that this was the most obvious thing in the world and that he was an idiot for not figuring it out by himself. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Fun. F-U-N. I’m not surprised you are not familiar with the concept, you’re not exactly what I would describe as a fun person. It’s something normal people try to have in their freetime.” 

“Yes, I know what it means,” L retorted acrimoniously, “I just do not think that I would enjoy something that you -” 

“Very good,” she interrupted him and clapped her hands together, “So, what _do_ you enjoy doing?”

“Solving criminal cases.” 

Amy threw her head and shoulders back and groaned dramatically.  
“You know that’s not an option. No more work for today.”

“That will not be possible. I have something very important that -” 

“L,” Amy interrupted him again; this time, her voice was sharp and her stare intense. “I get it. You’re a super important detective, and the world depends on you and all that. But you just had cardiac arrhythmia literally half an hour ago. What more does it take for you to realise that you should take a break once in a while? If this was a hospital and you were a normal patient, I would keep you overnight under surveillance on an ECG machine and sign you off work for at least a week. Unfortunately for both you and me, you are not a normal patient.” 

She took a deep breath.  
“No-one will profit if you work yourself into ruin, except Kira. You are too important, L. This world does need you, I know that as much as anyone.”

Raising an eyebrow, she half smiled.

“Don’t let it get to your head that I said that, your ego is big enough as it is. Now, I know that the three days haven’t started yet, but you will listen to me nonetheless. For the rest of the day, you will not even think the word Kira. No more work today. I will not leave your side to make sure of that. No offense, but I’m still not convinced that you have even one functional brain cell that is able to follow my logic. Catching serial killers and other felons, sure, but basic human instinct preventing self-destruction? Not so much. If you are so determined to be anti-everything I say, I suppose we will spend the evening staring at each other in silence. Fine by me. I’m not going to leave, and you will not work. Hate me for it if it makes you feel better.” 

It occured to Amy that she had just delivered an entire speech without being interrupted by the detective. No snarky comments, no eye rolls, no impatient sighs. He had not even looked at her funnily. He still didn’t. There was no sign of the hate she had willingly accepted as a consequence, not even annoyance or disapproval. L just stared at her with his dark panda eyes; his expression blank and his thumb in the corner of his mouth.

Amy decided that this was a good sign and took the next step. 

“There has to be something other than solving crimes that you did at one point in your life and that you liked doing.” 

The detective’s expression did not change in the least when he replied, and if Amy hadn’t seen his lips move, she might have not been certain that he had spoken to her at all. 

“When I was younger, I learned to play the violin. I also play tennis and read books.” 

Her face lit up and she felt like some weight had been taken off her shoulders. Could it be that they were actually making progress here?

“Great. Good. That’s very good. It’s just… a little hard to do right now. Unless you have a violin or some books here? Books of fiction, obviously, not the latest textbook of _How to catch a Psychopathic Murderer_.”

He shook his head slightly. Well, she had expected that much.

“Then… do you like movies?” 

“Can’t say I do.” 

She pulled a doubtful face. “You have never seen any movie in its entirety, have you?” 

For a second, L looked caught out, then he raised his chin. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” 

Beaming at him, Amy jumped to her feet. 

“Then we will watch some movies! Everybody likes movies, just you wait. We’ll find something you like. And if we don’t, at least I will enjoy it. Which I think I deserve, to be honest. Don’t run away, your heart wouldn’t survive it.” 

Chuckling at her own joke, she left the room, only to return a moment later with a flash drive that she plugged into the media player below the television. Sitting down next to him, she scrolled through the rows and rows of movie titles. 

“I was thinking we could start with some classics, _Avatar_ perhaps, or The Breakfast Club?” 

L shrugged carelessly, his expression remaining blank. He was determined to not enjoy whatever she would present him with now, and instead think about this anagram. He desperately needed to figure out what it meant. _If the circumstances were different_ , he thought, _I might decide differently._

He noticed that Amy seemed to be very excited. It seemed a bit strange to him that she would get this excited over watching movies that she had undoubtedly seen multiple times already. She was smiling radiantly, staring at the screen with such intense focus that one might get the impression she was trying to break into the security system of Alcatraz, not trying to choose a film.  
She was hopping up and down slightly, and her eyes were sparkling quite prettily. 

Unexpectedly, L found himself imagining her disappointment if she knew that he had no actual interest in which movie she chose or what happened in that movie. It dawned on him that it was most likely that she would realise at one point or another that he wasn’t paying attention. She had already proven to have very good observational skills. 

It did not take much effort to imagine how the smile would disappear from her face and be replaced by a frown. Then, a tiny, hurt expression would flash at him for the fraction of a second before it made way for a stern, condescending look and an annoyed huff.  
He cleared his throat and pointed vaguely at the screen. 

“That one sounds… intriguing.” 

“You mean _Monsters, Inc._? Oh, I love that one, it’s one of my favourites. I’m sure you will like it, too. Excellent choice, I am impressed. Perhaps you do have something in that big head of yours,” Amy babbled and beamed at him. 

L watched her start the movie, hugging a sofa pillow excitedly to her chest. When she shot him a side glance to make sure he was watching, he quickly diverted his eyes to the screen. 

_It’s just one movie_ , he thought, _and afterwards I have a higher chance of her letting me work in peace. There is a 79% chance that watching this movie with her will be more beneficial for my situation in the long run._

*********************************************

_August 12th, 20:38 Japan Standard Time – Day 0_

Quillish Wammy had completed all the tasks that Amy had asked him to do. He had fed and cleaned Misa Amane, as well as she had allowed him to, but he had not spoken to her - he knew that Ryuzaki would not want him to. He had put new sheets on the detective’s bedding, and put a bottle of water on the nightstand. He had prepared “the special food”, as Amy called it. 

They seemed to be low tasks, admittedly, but Wammy was used to such requests, and he did not mind them. He liked to think of himself as an intelligent man, but compared to his fosterlings he was nearly imbecilic. He did not mind that, either. 

Because in the end, they were children, still. They asked him to do very simple tasks, and in return, in the meanwhile, their brains worked their magic. Wammy wasn’t even entirely sure if L knew how to use a dishwasher, or if Amy could correctly frank a letter. But that was alright, too. 

In return, he would always be in the background. While he might have seemed like a lowly handyman to some, quite the opposite was the truth: he was always informed about what L planned to do next, he knew when the situation became dangerous, he could follow the detective in each of his steps and interact with other parts of the outside world. Sometimes, on rare occasions, L would even come to him for advice. Wammy was able to pull some strings from the shadows, and to navigate as carefully and informedly as he could. All of this was just because, in their genius, his fosterlings needed somebody to accomplish the simpler tasks in life for them. 

So, no, Quillish Wammy did not mind being that person. 

As he was walking to the main room of the building, that was somehow both investigation headquarters and living room, he heard loud voices. Frowning, he quietly stepped through the door. 

Amy was standing on the sofa, with her dark blue blanket around her shoulders like a cape, loudly intoning into an invisible microphone to the songs of _Mamma mia_ , which was running on the TV behind them. 

L was sitting in his usual position next to her, looking up at her. Someone who had not known him as long as Wammy had might have interpreted his posture and facial expression as disinterested or even annoyed. But Wammy knew differently. He noticed the small upwards angles of the corners of L’s mouth, and the tiny rhythmical bobbing of his right foot, and the way he had slightly tilted his head, which he always did when he was attentive. 

Wammy stood in the doorway, watching the two of them, and suddenly felt himself overcome with a wave of affection towards them. Fatherly love was inaccurate, but it was something in that direction. 

It was completely incomprehensible to him how Amy had managed to convince L to not only lay down his work for the day, but also to watch an actual movie with another human being… and a musical, at that. And it did not stop there; he seemed to actually be enjoying it, although that wasn’t very easy to tell - which, Wammy thought, might be in L’s interest. 

For the older man’s experienced eyes, L looked more alive than he had in weeks. 

Amy had that effect on people… if she wanted to. 

Bringing her here had been a risk, but now, he realised with relief, it seemed it had been worth taking. 

He knew that Amy and L could have set the world aflame together and watched it burn, or - if things had gone seriously wrong - laid everything around them in ashes to wage war against one another. However, together they would also make the most powerful allegiance against Kira that could exist in the world, Wammy was sure of that. And, most importantly, Amy would be able to save L from the danger that he was to himself – if she so chose.

He sometimes liked to think of L as deadly machine with an artificial intelligence that surpassed everything that was human by a long way - brilliant, just and calculated, and only dangerous when he needed to be. Amy was different. She was more like the wind or the ocean - harder to predict, impossible to tame, with incomprehensible motives. Brilliant as well, of course, but very risky to work with. 

One of these days, he needed to warn L not to underestimate her - a mistake that he had made one too many times. 

Wammy took a deep breath. Right now, the both of them rather seemed like two teenagers in college. Amy was just jumping off of the sofa to give an especially dramatic performance of Chiquitita while L shook his head in amusement. 

Amy noticed him and interrupted her little show. 

“Oh, hey, Wammy. What are you standing around there for?” 

“I apologise. You seemed like you did not wish to be disturbed.”

“Nonsense.” She smiled sweetly. “Did you bring it?” 

“Of course.” He walked over to her and extended the two bowls he was holding. 

“Thank you! You’re the best.” She took them and gave one of them to L, who eyed its contents suspiciously. “Would you like to watch with us?” 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that someone needs to keep an eye on our suspect,” L stepped in, not taking his eyes off the bowl. Amy sighed and rolled her eyes, shrugging apologetically into Wammy’s general direction, who half-bowed and took his leave. 

“What’s this?” L asked suspiciously, slightly tilting the bowl and watching as the brownish sludge in it slowly followed the motion. 

“It’s food. I made it,” Amy said, not without pride. “Well, Wammy - sorry, Watari - made it, but I developed it.” 

L scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Perhaps you should reconsider your career and become a professional chef instead,” he suggested sarcastically. 

“Perhaps _you_ should consider shutting your mouth and eating this before I use a naso-gastric tube to force-feed you.” 

"This looks like it has already been eaten at least once."

"Less work for you, then." She shrugged, grinned and put a spoonful from her own bowl into her mouth. Then she poked his side with her elbow and urged, mouth full: "Go ahead. It's really good. Well, I do admit the taste has room for improvement, but everything else is really good. This contains every single vitamin and trace element that an average human needs, in exactly the right amount. And enough energy from carbohydrates to provide lasting energy for up to 16 hours, without being too heavy on the stomach. Pretty neat, huh?" 

L was not convinced. 

"Then perhaps this food would be more useful in other places. For people who might require it more," he said as diplomatically as he could, which nonetheless earned him an offended glare. 

"Don't you think I know that? I'm currently working on getting the necessary legal permissions and documents to import it into crisis areas around the world. And then, later, also to start production there. It would provide both food and work." 

She sighed. 

"But it's harder than I thought it would be. I really didn't think that anyone could be against my idea, but it turns out I was wrong. You would be surprised at how many people benefit from other people's suffering." 

"No, I don't think so," L replied thoughtfully and took a spoon of his mush. It tasted like absolutely nothing, which was somehow both relieving and disappointing. 

*********************************************

_August 12th, 23:52 Japan Standard Time – Day 0_

"Are you tired?" L asked flatly after Amy had yawned for the third time within twelve minutes. 

"Might be, oh great detective," she replied sarcastically, but her voice sounded so sleepy that it had lost its edge. 

"Then perhaps you should go to bed." 

"Are you thick? To stop watching a movie in the middle of the plott is a crime, I should inform you. Besides, there's only 14 minutes left. Don't you want to know who the murderer is?" 

"I have known for 57 minutes already." 

Amy rolled her eyes. "No, you haven't. There is _no way._ " 

"It was the gardener." 

Amy glanced at him from the side. 

"Hey, Ryuzaki?" 

"Yes?"

"Fuck off."

After the film had finished and it had turned out that L's assumption was correct (which had earned him nothing but a "showoff" and an eyeroll), Amy turned off the TV and looked at him. 

"I would like to give you a soporific," she said straightforwardly. "I don't know why you don't sleep, and you don't have to tell me. Maybe there's no reason at all. But as a matter of fact, you desperately need sleep. And, as it turns out… oh, would you look at that!" – she made a big show of looking at her wrist watch – "it's already past twelve, which means that the three days have started and you have to listen to me."

L had nothing to oppose that logic and kept silence. Amy interpreted that as agreement and looked satisfied.

"I'll meet you in your room in 10. Please don't be naked."

And gone she was. 

Exactly 12 minutes and 23 seconds later, there was a knock on L's door. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, which had been fitted with fresh sheets. There was a bottle of water on the nightstand. Watari's work, but Amy's request, L figured. 

"Come in." 

Probing, as if half-expecting him to really be naked, or in an otherwise compromising situation, she stuck only her head through the door crack. Her face lit up.

“Ah, there you are.” 

“Where else would I be?” L asked plainly. 

She rolled her eyes, stepped into the room and examined him sceptically.

“What’s this, then?”, she asked and pointed her hand accusingly at him.

“Uh… me?” L was confused. Amy made a face as if he was the absolutely inanest person on the planet. 

“Where are your pajamas? Why are you still wearing your day wear?” she asked very slowly, crossing her arms like an impatient mother. 

“I don’t own any.” 

“Oh.” Amy felt a tiny tug at her heart strings. This man owned multiple building complexes, a battalion of subordinates, the most successful detective agency in the world and God-knows how many financial resources, and yet he did not own the simple comfort of a pair of well-fitting pajamas. Somehow, that was… sad. 

“Then what do you usually wear to bed?” she asked, more softly. 

“This.” L did not understand why she was making such a big deal out of this. 

“Don’t you ever change your clothes?” Amy did not even try to keep the disgust out of her face. 

“I change my clothes every 24 hours. They just look the same. But I fail to see how that is any of your business.” The detective looked defiantly at her. She wrung her hands. 

“But… That’s not… Why don’t you…?” Amy sighed and lowered her hands in defeat. “Well, I suppose that’s a problem for another day.” 

She walked up to the bed and sat down on its edge, right next to L. He wondered if he should move to give her more space. But she could have just sat down on the other side of the bed if she wanted more space. He remained where he was and watched as she produced a tiny plastic container from the pocket of her hoodie. In it, there was a white pill roughly the size of breath mint that she now held out to him.

“C16H13ClN2O. A molecular weight of 284,74 grams per mole, positive allosteric modulator of the GABA type A receptors. May I present: diazepam. Or Valium, if you’re old-fashioned. Ta-daa. Will knock you out for a good few hours. It’s not a long-term solution, obviously, but I’m afraid your little problem requires a quick intervention. Oh, and there is no validity imprint on it because I made this one myself. I wanted it to have to exact amount of active substance that I calculated for you, down to the milligram. Don’t worry, I’m excellent at this.” 

Amy grinned, but L just quietly looked at her in a way that she could not make sense of. How could his eyes be this dark? She wished she could take a closer look at them. Maybe his pupillary sphincter had a pathological deformity? Or, perhaps, it really was just their colour…

Finally, L took the pill and tried to swallow it dryly. Almost choking, he had to realise that this tiny pill felt a lot bigger and more impracticable in his throat. 

“With water, you moron.” Amy offered him the bottle from the nightstand. “Have you never had to swallow a pill before?” 

Gulping the pill and the water down, he shook his head. 

“Hm. Well, congrats on your first time.” She grinned and arched an eyebrow. Then she looked at her wristwatch. “If I’m correct - and I always am, better get used to it - you have exactly 17 minutes and 24… 23 seconds before you’re dancing through the land of dreams. So I’d suggest you lie down comfortably.” 

L had expected her to leave as soon as he had taken the pill, but she made no move to do so. 

As if she had read his thoughts, she stated: “I’m just going to stay a little to make sure you don’t have an allergic reaction. I highly doubt it, but better safe than sorry, hm? Imagine if I killed the great L with a fucking Valium. Kira would probably propose to me.” 

To the surprise of all present people, L snorted slightly. Amy half-smiled, a satisfied gleam in her eyes, and got off the bed. 

“What are you waiting for, divine intervention? I told you to lie down.” 

Complicatedly, L crawled under the covers and watched as Amy circuited the king-sized bed to lie down next to him; on top of the covers, with an arm’s length between them. 

“This is better,” she groaned as soon as her head had hit the pillow. “My back hurts from just watching you sit like that all day.” 

L did not know what to say to that. It might have been the placebo effect, but it felt like his limbs were already getting heavier. 

“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Amy asked after a while, staring at the ceiling. He turned his head sideways to look at her. 

“That’s because you talk all the time,” he gave back dryly, causing her to chuckle. 

“Fair enough.” 

He noticed her dimples and the way that her freckles danced on her nose when she laughed. A few more moments passed before she spoke up again; quietly, almost hesitantly. 

“I’m not talking now.”

L’s eyes widened for a second, then his mouth curled up ever so slightly. 

“No, you’re not. How unfamiliar. Might this strange sensation that I’m feeling be… peace and quiet?” 

Amy huffed, but still did not look at him - nor did she reply. Apparently, she was serious about her pledge of silence. L put his thumb to the corner of his mouth.

“I… liked what we did this evening.” 

This got her attention, and she rolled to her side to now also look back at him. With a raise of her eyebrow, she urged him to go on.  
“Obviously, it was very time-consuming and therefore rather hindering for the most important criminal case in history. I will have to make up for that tomorrow,” he hurried up to say. Amy said nothing still, just staring at him expectantly. 

“But, nonetheless, it was.... good. When this case is over, we could do it again sometime. Since we’re friends.” 

Amy offered a smile to the dark haired man who was blinking at her through his black strands of hair, biting around on his finger. 

“Yes. Yes, I think I would like that.” She looked at her watch. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good.” It was true; although his head felt a little fuzzy, it was not uncomfortable, and he felt very calm and somehow not at all uneasy at the thought of falling asleep. His eyes felt heavy, but the corners of his mouth felt strangely light, as if they were being pulled upwards by a string. She nodded. 

“Three minutes left. I guess this is the time for me to tell you to sleep well and have nice dreams.” 

“I never do,” he replied before he could stop himself. Somehow, his mouth seemed to be faster than his brain. 

Her smile faded away and was replaced by a frown, and he immediately felt bad for having said it. 

“No dreams tonight. I promise.” 

The last doubts he had had detached from him at the intense confidence in her voice, and he felt his eyes close without him having to do anything for it. 

“That’s it,” Amy said softly, and it sounded a little farther away. He wondered if she would stay here tonight. Perhaps he should offer it to her. Walking was exhausting, and this bed was so incomprehensibly comfortable. Also, his room felt a lot less empty; even now that he had closed his eyes and couldn’t see her anymore. Yes, he should definitely offer it to her, it was the only polite thing to do. But talking was also exhausting... 

“I will see you tomorrow,” was the last thing he heard before he drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep. 

*********************************************  
_August 13th, 11:07 Japan Standard Time – Day 1_

When L woke up, it was shortly past 11 in the morning. Someone - and you really did not need to be the world’s best detective to figure out who - had turned off his alarm clock. 

The first thing he noticed were the loud voices coming from somewhere a few rooms over - the voices that had woken him up in the first place. It sounded like his task force, who undoubtedly had arrived at their usual time of 9 a.m., was having a very heated argument. 

L clicked his tongue (his mouth was very dry) and noticed the second thing that was different on this particular morning: the absence of any pain, buzzing or hammerin inside his head. He clicked his tongue again, more out of surprise this time, and got up from the bed. For a moment, his eyes lingered on the spot that Amy had lain on, then he stretched himself, making every vertebrae in his spine crack in protest. 

After changing his clothes and acknowledging that keeping a water bottle by your bedside was actually not a bad idea, he felt ready to face whatever was going on over there. 

“... makes absolutely no sense! Why would he do that?” he heard as he got closer. 

“I suppose because he wanted this investigation to finally stop going around in circles. And thus, he sought out the only person in this building with competence that exceeds that of a blind letter pigeon - me,” a voice that was undoubtedly Amy’s, replied lazily. 

“You are not even part of this investigation! He would not do that, especially not without telling us in person!” Mogi argued angrily. 

“Where is he, anyway?” Matsuda asked suspiciously. “He’s never late. Have you… done anything to him?” 

“You are, without a doubt, the dumbest detectives I have ever seen in my life. Why would I -?”

L sighed, put his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stepped into the main investigation room. Amy had once again taken over his chair and was sitting on it with the backrest in front of her, considering the detectives with a contemptuous look. Matsuda was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, while Mogi paced back and forth behind him and Aizawa sat on the sofa, rubbing his forehead. Soichiro Yagami was leaning against a wall, frowning at all of them. Light Yagami was absent.

“Hello,” L said and all eyes turned to him. 

“Ah, the Sleeping Beauty joins us,” Amy said piquedly, just as if it hadn’t been her who had sedated him and turned off his alarm clock. 

"Ryuzaki, did you give her the command over the interrogation of the suspect for the next three days?" Yagami senior asked tiredly. Apparently, this argument had been going on for quite a while. 

L scrutinized his task force. First the detectives in their black suits and ties, with gelled hair, briefcases, guns and very serious expressions on their faces. Then Amy, who was wearing an oversized sweatshirt with Mike Wazowski from Monsters Inc. on it over black jeans, and who had apparently forgotten to comb her hair this morning.

"Yes," he said simply. Amy was looking like the manifestation of self-satisfaction, while the rest of the task force stared at him as if he had just proclaimed that he had been elected the new pope. 

“But… why?” Matsuda asked blankly after a moment of shocked silence. 

Instead of a reply, L walked over to Amy and looked down on her disdainfully. 

“That’s my chair.” 

“Yes,” she agreed stretchedly, “I was just… keeping it warm for you.” 

“How mindful of you. Move.” 

Grumbling, Amy moved one chair to the side and L crouched down on his chair. Someone had returned the black folder to his place. The little note was still sticking out of it. L’s thumb went to the corner of his mouth. 

“After careful consideration,” he declared without looking at anyone, “I have decided that it is in everyone’s best interest if we let A try to get our suspect to confess, or at least to reveal some useful information to us. For the next three days, she will have the freedom to interrogate her as she chooses. Without harming her or supplying her with any form information whatsoever, naturally.” 

L kept the other details of their deal to himself. He could feel the discontent behind him.

“But… why?” Aizawa doubtingly repeated the question that Matsuda had asked only moments before. L was growing a little impatient. 

“Because we do not seem to be getting anywhere with the suspect, and I would only unwillingly resort to more drastic measurements. Besides, we are losing a lot of time, and I have found something that requires our immediate attention. If A will really get us information in the promised amount of time, we can work on other things in the meantime and do not have to torture a young girl. I thought that that was something you would like to hear?” 

Aizawa sucked in a breath through his teeth. Soichiro Yagami asked in a low voice: 

“Ryuzaki, do you trust her?” 

“No.” He could feel Amy’s fiery stare burning into him from the side, but she didn’t say anything. “That’s why she will be under surveillance at all times and inform us about every step she takes.” 

Just as L thought that the matter was settled, Matsuda stepped in. He sounded upset.

“No, Ryuzaki! This is really not a job for a girl. I’m tired of so many young people getting dragged into this terrible thing. Misa Amane, Light, now A... She is a civilian, someone that we as police officers are sworn to protect! We will find another way.” 

“I have made my decision,” L said sharply before Amy could even think of lashing out at Matsuda, “We are not forcing A to do anything she does not want to do. And the sooner we get information, the more people we will be able to protect. Now, please do proceed, A. Aizawa, Matsuda, you will accompany her.”

“Right, then.” Amy got up and stretched her arms behind her back. “Come on, boys, we’ve got things to do. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you would refer to me as Doctor Strange or Big Momma or Captain A from now on. Something cool.” 

“I’m not doing that,” Aizawa said sourly and Matsuda looked pleadingly to his colleagues. However, no-one came to his rescue and the three of them left the room while Yagami senior and Mogi sat down next to L to watch them over the security cameras. 

“One more thing, Mister Yagami,” L said thoughtfully as the still empty corridor in front of Misa Amane’s cell appeared on his screen, “I don’t want your son to ever find out that A took part in this investigation. Tell him that he is to refrain from coming here for the next three days. Tell him that I am rethinking my theory of him being Kira and that I would like to do so without his influence.” 

“Are you? Rethinking your theory, I mean?” Mister Yagami’s voice sounded hopeful. L did not respond. 

Amy, Matsuda and Aizawa walked into the picture. Apparently, they had stopped by Amy’s room since she was now wearing a white coat and carrying her black case. Aizawa threw a worried glance up to the camera, then he opened the door to Misa Amane’s cell. L switched to the cameras in the cell. From different perspectives, they could now watch as the blonde girl winced and lifted her head. 

“W-who’s there?” she asked in a thin voice. 

“Hello,” Amy gave back friendlily, “my name is A. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m a doctor. They sent me to make sure that you were alright.” 

Misa’s face twisted anxiously, as if she was expecting a trap. Amy took another step into the cell. 

“That’s not very comfortable, is it?” She frowned and turned to the detectives. “Untie her.” 

They did not move a muscle, and Amy threw an annoyed glance up to the cameras. L’s eyes narrowed for a second, then he pressed a button. 

“Do it. But she will keep the blindfold.” 

Exchanging a tense look, Matsuda and Aizawa released their suspect and set her, at Amy’s command, on the bench in the corner. She was still wearing both the straightjacket and the blindfold. 

“Who’s that voice?” the blonde asked, pressing her back to the wall. “I always hear it. It’s always asking me questions. I don’t understand why!” 

“Don’t mind him, he’s just an idiot. Sadly, he’s also my boss, so I am forbidden to tell you any more information. I’m going to come closer now, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Amy knelt down in front of the bench. “I would like to take that straightjacket off to examine you. But you have to promise me not to do anything reckless, yes? There are men with guns here with me, and I would not want them to hurt you. But I can only promise your safety if you listen to me, do you understand?”

A weak nod. Amy slowly and carefully removed the straightjacket and chucked it to the ground. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Misa.” 

“That’s a good name, Misa. You must excuse me; I don’t speak any Japanese. I’ll have to talk to you in English. I’m also sorry about all of this here. I will do my best to improve your situation.” 

Then, she started examining Misa Amane. She was very thorough; she ausculated her lungs, her heart, and her abdomen. She took her pulse and blood pressure. She gently palpated her inner organs. She asked her if she had experienced any coughing or major temperature variations or other symptoms that might be indicative of an acute infection. She put a white cream onto the places where Misa’s skin had been irritated or rubbed sore by her bonds. 

Finally, Amy took a few steps back. “Now, Misa, you seem to be holding up quite well, despite all of the stress you’re undoubtedly under. I will come back tomorrow to check up on you.” 

She turned to leave. 

“That’s it?” Mogi asked incredulously and L chewed on his finger. 

“Wait!” Misa Amane suddenly cried out. “Don’t go! Please, you need to help me! I don’t know anything about Kira.” 

“I’m not here to be the judge of that.” Slowly, Amy turned back around and even through the cameras, L believed to see that her eyes had turned a little darker. “But... I could help you in another way. I could make you feel… less bad.” 

“Yes, yes! I can’t stand this anymore, please!” In her helplessness, Misa almost stood up from the bench. Matsuda and Aizawa tensed, but Amy raised one hand. 

“Alright. Lie down on that bench, please. I will give you something that will help you.” 

There was a tiny shift in Amy’s attitude. L wasn’t sure what exactly it was; maybe the way she carried herself, or the look in her eyes, or how her jaw suddenly tensed, and he realised that only now, her real plan began. 

She took a pair of gloves, disinfectant and a syringe that had undoubtedly been prepared for this exact purpose out of her case. 

“What is she doing?” Mister Yagami asked. L did not know, and for a moment he considered stopping her. He realised, however, that whatever alternatives were open to them wouldn’t be much prettier. So he simply watched in silence. 

Amy should never find out how close she got to death in that moment. As she disinfected the crook of Misa’s arm, Rem’s hand hovered over her own Death Note, watching with a tensed expression on her face. It did not matter what Light Yagami had told her to do, or what the consequences of her actions would be. The only thing that mattered was killing this little human before she could harm Misa. 

“Misa, what is she doing?” she snarled. The blonde girl did not reply. She was whimpering softly. The young woman with the white coat took the syringe and pushed a tiny bit of the clear substance inside into the air, as if to test if it was working. 

Rem wrote the first letter of the name she saw hovering over her head. _A._

Then, Rem hesitated. Maybe this… doctor person, whatever that was, really wanted to help Misa. She had made them untie her, after all, and she had been mostly nice, as far as Rem could tell. 

But as the needle pierced through Misa’s soft, pale skin, Rem wrote: _M._

Shit, she would need to hurry up, before… The contents of the syringe were pressed into Misa’s vein. Rem’s eyes widened in fright as the girl audibly gasped, her back arching a little from the bench. 

_I will kill you._ Furiously and with shaking fingers, Rem quickly scribbled down the rest of the letters of that damned name. 

Only two letters were left when a noise made her stop dead and look up.  
“Thank you,” Misa breathed, a smile slowly appearing on her features. Rem watched, still frozen in her motion, as the marks that days in isolation and imprisonment had left on Misa’s face seemed to disappear, only to be replaced by an expression of what could only be described as pure ecstasy. 

Stunned, Rem lowered her Death Note. 

*********************************************

_ August 13th, 18:34 Japan Standard Time – Day 1  _

Amy had visited Misa two more times that day, each time injecting her with the same clear substance - much to Misa’s delight. Otherwise, L did not see a lot of her, which he found a bit odd. She did not return to the investigation room afterwards, and only came by to pick up Matsuda and Aizawa to accompany her, or to snap at L about drinking more water. 

Twice, Wammy came by with a bowl of brown mush and “regards from A”. When L took the first spoonful, a sweet taste filled his mouth. It wasn’t the taste of sugar, or of anything else that L was accustomed to, but it was definitely more to his liking. Surprised, he stared at the bowl as if it was its own doing, then he half-smiled. 

L had decided to share his newest findings with the other detectives. He explained that six of the names of Kira’s victim list were anagrams of each other, and that he doubted it to be a coincidence. Rather, he went on, it was likely a message. What they had to do was to find out who was sending the message, whom it was for, what it meant and how someone had been able to manipulate those names. 

Now, Aizawa and Mogi were doing research on the particular victims and trying to find a connection between them. Yagami senior and Matsuda were trying to make sense of the anagram by writing different combinations down. L had put the letters through a computer program that found words and combinations in every single language on earth for them, but the results were all nonsensical. 

e - i - m - o - o - o - r - s - s - t - t - u - v - v

L stared at the letters. They had to mean something, he knew they did. 

Aizawa and Mogi had not really found anything of relevance, either. There seemed to be no connection between the victims at all. Born in different years, in different cities and countries, imprisoned for different crimes. Armed robbery, theft, blackmail, arson, assault and drug trafficking. 

“Outstrives… no… moistures… erotisms?” With a frustrated sigh, Matsuda put his pen down. “Ryuzaki, are you sure that this means something? Maybe it’s just a coincidence and we are all wasting our time!”

L fixed him in his dark, steadfast gaze. “I am certain.” 

They didn’t make any progress that evening, and at eleven, Amy marched into the room like Napoleon Bonaparte reincarnate and threw the detectives out and ushered L to bed. 

“18 minutes and 17 seconds,” she announced after he had swallowed the pill she had given him. He had expected her to leave him then, since it was now clear that he would not have an allergic reaction, but once again, she eluded all his expectations. 

After laying down on top of the sheets on the left side of the bed, she looked at him expectantly. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m not talking,” she said as if that explained everything. 

“I offer my congratulations.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being stupid. Tell me something, Ryuzaki. Anything” 

L blinked and said nothing. Her stare intensified stoically. After a few minutes of this, L felt the soporific agent take effect, like a pleasant tingling in his head that spread slowly throughout his body. 

“I have a problem,” he blurted out. 

“Oh?” 

“I… found something. Something that I believe to be of importance.” 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, it _is_ kind of your job.” Amy half-smiled at him. 

“Yes, but… while I know that it means something, I cannot figure out what exactly it means.” He forcefully let out a breath. 

“That upsets you,” Amy noted. 

“It would be scandalous if it didn’t. People are dying because of it.” 

She frowned at him and answered sharply: “People aren’t dying because of that, or because of you. People are dying because a psychomanic killing machine is murdering them. And you’re doing your best to stop that.” 

“If my best isn’t enough, there isn’t really a point, is there?” he snapped back. 

She countered his harsh tone with a soft chuckle. “You’ve been working on this for what, a day? Patience is not really one of your virtues, is it? 

Then she became thoughtful. “When I can’t understand something,” she said, tapping her index finger against her chin, “I kill it.” 

“What?” 

“I kill it. When I encounter an unfamiliar bacterium, parasite or virus, I kill it, take it apart, analyse its genetic material. When a patient has a sickness that I can’t figure out, I kill the patient - in my mind, hypothetically, obviously. What would the patient die of? What would kill them, exactly? Then I go from there.” 

“I don’t think that would help me very much…” L said quietly. His head was starting to feel cloudy. How could you kill letters? The thought was almost funny. _Sadly, I can’t just murder words_ , he wanted to say, but it was too much effort. _But languages can die_ , it shot through his mind. _When no-one alive can speak a language anymore, that language is dead._

His eyes, that had been falling shut, shot open. That’s why his program had not found any results that made sense. It used only languages that were being spoken to this day. 

The words were written in Latin. 

As L was fighting a lost battle against sleep, the letters arranged in his mind and clicked into the right places. 

“See? It always helps,” he heard distantly from his left, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to everyone who reads this, 
> 
> I hope you liked this. I know I'm always saying the exact same thing here but oh well. Thanks to everyone who's still on board for this and please let me know if you enjoyed/have any criticism/have suggestions. (lol i mean it, please somebody talk to me, isolation is lonely)
> 
> Also, as you may have noticed, i moved the story closer to the present. That's just easier to write for me, and perhaps even more enjoyable to read. I hope it doesn’t bother anyone.
> 
> Stay healthy!


End file.
